


I Don't Have a Choice (But I Still Choose You)

by lilinas, sparrow30



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, Romance, Short scene of bullying and homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 70,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilinas/pseuds/lilinas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow30/pseuds/sparrow30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single guy, in possession of wealth, intelligence and unfairly good looks, must be a complete and utter dick.</p><p>When Fate and Mercedes Jones' libido throw the New Directions clan into the path of the Dalton Academy Warblers, it's hard for Kurt Hummel not to notice their new captain; the ridiculously attractive Sebastian Smythe. It’s also hard for Kurt not to notice his arrogance, his biting sarcasm, or the fact that he'd clearly rather be anywhere other than socializing with a bunch of unfortunate public school ragamuffins.</p><p>Kurt's spent enough of his life serving as a punching bag for self-important assholes to know that Sebastian is just more of the same. It doesn't matter that he's gay. Or hot. Or that he keeps looking at Kurt in that inscrutable way. The only sensible course of action is to stay far, far away. Which, of course, turns out to be easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away (a.k.a. last summer) Sparrow and Lilinas decided to team up for the Kurtbastian Big Bang. Six months later it's finally done! The story is a modern high school AU loosely based on Pride and Prejudice. It takes place during Kurt's senior year, Blaine doesn't exist, and since we started writing it before we knew any better, Sebastian is a senior as well. Writing it together was a huge adventure and we hope you like it!
> 
> Now for the thank yous!
> 
> First, for gorgeous art that went above and beyond anything we could have imagined, the lovely [unbridledglee](http://unbridledglee.livejournal.com). Her lovely art (and our fanmix) can be found [here](http://turkikicamp.tumblr.com/post/42001042745) and [here](http://turkikicamp.tumblr.com/post/42000388184) We can only hope our story lives up to the cool stuff she created for it.
> 
> For stalwart courage in the face of two ungodly wordy authors who asked her to read 69,000-odd words in the space of two days (and didn't even blink), our incomparable beta Flo, who used to be theinfiniteparamour on Tumblr but who is now [isruben](http://isruben.tumblr.com).
> 
> For unfailing cheerleading and loyal support (which was sometimes _very_ necessary), the irreplaceable [Lis](http://letmegiveyoumynumbah.tumblr.com) and [Pepper](http://pepperroxd.tumblr.com). It seemed like every time one of us was having a crisis, one of you would drop in with kind and affirming words. So thanks!
> 
> The folks behind the [Kurtbastian Big Bang](http://kurtbastianbang.livejournal.com), without whom this never would have happened. So be sure to check out all the bang fics and art!
> 
> And Lilinas and Sparrow would probably like to flail like Klainers during episode 15 about how much they love each other and how perfect they each think the other is and all that jazz, but they'll spare you. :)

On the day in question – the fateful day when it all began, which seemed innocuously like any other day as these things tend to do – Kurt Hummel was late for Glee Club. He’d left his locker in plenty of time but then had to take not one but two detours through half-empty corridors to avoid gaggles of jocks thirsting for blood (at least that’s how they always looked to him). So when he arrived at the choir room the door was already closed.

He could see through the little glass panel that class hadn’t started yet. Mr. Schuester was nowhere in sight and everyone was huddled in one of two groups; the first watching something on the computer in Sugar’s lap and the second squinting at the tiny screen of Rachel’s phone. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, and when he pulled the door open his ears confirmed what his eyes had seen.

“She wouldn’t . . .”

“Hot boys . . .”

“More money than God . . .”

“I couldn't live with myself . . .”

“KURT!” Rachel’s shrill cry broke through the cacophony and she threw herself at Kurt, pulling him into the room and peering out the door behind him. “Is Mercedes with you?”

“No, I haven’t seen . . .” Kurt began to reply before he was promptly cut off again by Rachel, who seemed to feel that there were more important things at hand than letting him finish.

“Good!” She pulled the door shut again and dragged him by the arm to where the others were starting to quiet down. “You have to see this. We are in serious crisis.”

“Please!” Sugar drawled in her self-important way. “We’re about to be in-laws with a school full of rich, gorgeous boys. That’s the opposite of a crisis. It’s in the dictionary.”

“Why do you care?” Sam said. “Aren’t you already rich?”

Santana gave a sharp snort. “There’s ‘my-dad-owns-a-string-of-piano-stores’ rich and then there’s ‘my-dad-owns-a-string-of-small-islands’ rich. Those boys are definitely in the island group.”

At this everyone started talking again, most of them yammering about the relative degrees of wealth and Rachel sounding indignant while Finn attempted to soothe her.

“Would somebody tell me what’s going on?!” One advantage of Kurt’s high-pitched voice was that being louder than everyone else was simply a matter of breath control. The whole room quieted immediately and everyone looked at Rachel, who held out her phone to him.

“Look,” was all she said.

Kurt was a little surprised to see that her browser was open to Jacob Ben Israel’s blog, which they all usually avoided like the plague. Aside from the header, the whole screen was filled with a picture of someone’s profile, someone African American, wearing a navy blue blazer with red piping on the lapels. The boy was holding hands with someone who was mostly out of frame - the picture had obviously been rushed and taken just as the couple headed out the door. The girl was just the back of a head and an arm. Her most distinguishing feature was really her shirtsleeve.

“What is this?”

“Scroll down,” Finn said.

The caption for the entry screamed out at him in all capitals. “IS MCKINLEY’S CHOCOLATE SONGBIRD WARBLING HER WAY IN A NEW DIRECTION?”

Below, the text was short and to the point. _“Mercedes Jones and a certain private school doo-wopper: Romeo and Juliet romance or partners in Glee Club betrayal? Is this forbidden love, or just a darker shade of St. Berry?”_

He tried scrolling down further, but that was all there was. He handed the phone back to Rachel with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t you get it? Mercedes is dating one of those boys from the Warblers.”

“This one,” Sugar added, turning the laptop around to show a screen frozen on a video of the Dalton boys performing. She pointed at one of the small figures on the screen. “He’s the only one who matches the picture."

“Okay, this is crazy,” Kurt said. “That could be anybody. It’s hair and an arm.”

“Right,” Santana spit out. “Like you didn’t recognize that sleeve. I even recognized it and I try to never look at Mercedes’ clothes. They make my eyes bleed almost as much as yours do.”

She was right, of course. Kurt had recognized the baby-blue shirt the minute he saw it. They had bought it together only a couple of weeks ago.

“So Mercedes is fraternizing with the enemy,” Artie said. “And we’re screwed. The Warblers are going to know all our secrets now. Jacob’s right, it’s Jesse all over again.”

Rachel colored at that, and Finn patted her arm gently. “Look guys,” he said, “we don’t know that it’s anything more than two people dating. Maybe they just really like each other. It doesn’t mean she’s going to tell him our secrets.”

Puck snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, bro. I know what chicks are like when they’re desperate for some male attention. They will do or say _anything_. Artie’s right. We’re screwed. The Warblers are gonna kill us at Regionals.”

From the back of the room Rory’s hand shot up.

“You don’t have to raise your hand, Rory. It’s just us.” Quinn said, smiling at the exchange student.

“So, what’s a Warbler? And why shouldn’t Mercedes date one if she wants?”

Santana reached over to scoop the computer off of Sugar’s lap. “This is a Warbler.” She held it up so Rory could see, and pressed a key.

A voice Kurt hadn’t heard before filled the room, rising over the chorus of background singers harmonizing their way through Billy Joel’s “The Longest Time.” It was higher pitched than last year’s lead singer and Kurt climbed the steps to push in between Tina and Mike and look over Santana’s shoulder at the screen.

And there they were, step-touching their hearts out just as they had when New Directions had beaten them at Sectionals the previous year. They all looked as good in those blazers as Kurt remembered, but he really only had eyes for the new lead singer. He was tall, that much was obvious, long legs and a long body that seemed made to wear the Dalton uniform. And he clearly thought well of himself. He owned the center spotlight, looking as if he had no concern at all that he would command everyone’s attention for as long as he required it. He certainly knew how to take the stage, Kurt admitted to himself.

“’The Longest Time’? That’s what they sang?” Rachel pushed in next to Kurt and squinted at the screen. “Could they be any more a capella cliché? And what happened to the Asian guy who used to sing lead?”

Santana shrugged. “Graduated, probably. What does it matter? One pretty boy or another – we’ll still beat the pants off them.”

“Sebastian Smythe,” Brittany piped up. Everyone turned to look at her. “It’s in the comments. _‘Holy Fuck! What happened to nerdy little Sebastian Smythe?’_ That’s what the comment says. I don’t swear. Not since Lord Tubbington washed my mouth out with soap that one time.”

“Let me see that,” Sugar commanded, pushing Brittany’s fingers away from the touch pad and turning the computer more in her own direction. “There’s more! _‘It must have been Paris. It finally turned our little Sebastian into a man. Looks like the Warblers need to send a thank-you letter to Sar . . . Sar . . ._ ”

“Sarkozy,” Santana said, pulling the laptop back around to face herself. Everyone stared at her then, frank astonishment on their faces. Even Kurt pulled away from the video long enough to show his surprise. “What? I can’t know things?”

“When I die I want to be buried in a Sarkozy,” Britt said. “That sounds really nice.”

Kurt’s attention was already back on the screen. With those long legs and arms Sebastian Smythe should have been gangling and awkward, all elbows and knees like Finn, but instead he moved so gracefully that it made Kurt’s head spin just a little.

“Oh my God! I just got the best idea!” Sugar jumped in her seat and clapped her hands. “We need a spy! Someone to work her feminine wiles on one of those gorgeous boys . . . that one,” she poked at Sebastian’s body on the screen, “and figure out why their friend is going after Mercedes. And I totally volunteer.” She preened a little, running her fingers through her hair. “Five minutes in a closet with me and he’d tell me whatever I wanted to know.”

“A closet is right,” Santana said, “but five minutes with you would be completely pointless.” She waited for everyone to get her joke, but aside from Kurt everyone looked bewildered. “He’s on Hummel’s team,” she finished, as if it should be completely obvious.

“Oh my God!” Kurt huffed incredulously. “You can’t tell that he’s gay just by looking at him in a video.”

“Uh, yes, I can, and don’t tell me you weren’t thinking it too. Or at least hoping.” Kurt blushed a bit and Tina reached over to squeeze his arm gently. “Don’t confuse me with your gaydar-less hag. There are four gay boys on that stage,” Santana continued, “and tall, dark and arrogant is definitely one of them.”

“Who are the others?” Sugar asked. Santana’s fingernail hit the screen three times, pointing out a tall blonde, a shorter brunette, and the baby-faced boy bouncing next to the lead. While they watched, the Warblers finished their Billy Joel song and launched into a new number.

“They did The Cave?” Mike said, peering around to get a better look. “I love that song!”

“My grandpa lived in a cave,” Brittany told him somberly. “He was a grizzly bear.”

“Back to my plan, please,” Sugar said. “I’ll just pick someone else. That one. He’s cute too.” She pointed out a tall black guy.

“That’s the one Mercedes is dating, Einstein,” Santana said scathingly.

“Well if the lead guy is gay, we should take advantage of that, I think,” Rachel said. “We _should_ send Kurt. They’d never see it coming. They’d totally buy it. He could go after Sebastian and make him give up all his secrets!”

“I think you’re confusing Hummel with James Bond,” Santana said. “And besides, Smythe is totally out of his league. If it’s going to be Hummel he should go after the cherub. That guy looks like he could use some bitch in his life. A couple of gropes and he’d definitely spill.”

Kurt sat in the chair next to Santana. “This is insane. No one’s going to spy on or . . . grope anyone,” he said.

The others continued talking over him.

“Who would ever believe Kurt would try to seduce that chubby guy instead of Sebastian? He’s French!” Sugar leaned in close again and tried to take the laptop from Santana, but she held onto it, giving the other girl a sharp glare.

“Not with a name like Smythe, he isn’t,” Tina contributed from the back.

“Says the Asian chick who’s last name is Cohen,” Puck said with a grin.

Kurt was still attempting to understand how he’d managed to end up in a conversation where his friends were discussing the relative merits of guys he should or should not play teenaged Mata Hari with. “Excuse me!” he tried again. “There will be no spying, or seducing, or any contact at all with Warblers, French, cherubic, or otherwise. We’re going to be mature about this and just ask Mercedes what’s going on.”

“Cohen-Chang, thank you very much. And that was totally adoptionist.”

“Mercedes isn’t going to tell us anything,” Rachel hissed at Kurt under the general din that was starting to pick up again. “And even if she did, what if she’s as clueless as I was about Jesse?”

The door opened at that moment. Everyone stopped speaking and the sound of Sebastian’s tenor cut off abruptly.

Mercedes only got two steps into the room before she registered the mood. She stopped and looked from face to face, clearly completely bewildered. “Okay, why is everyone looking at me?” she finally asked. “Shouldn’t Berry be in the middle of some kind of ridiculously complicated warm-up with Kurt trying to show her up and everyone else acting like they’re not impressed?”

“Why were you late for practice?” Artie demanded.

“I was on the phone. And Mr. Schue isn’t even here yet. Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Sugar said in a voice that was as far from nonchalant as it was possible to be. “We were just checking out our competition, you know, those rich boys from that private school? The ones who are so cute? And rich? And cute?”

Kurt got up, swiped Rachel’s phone from her hand as he passed, woke it up and handed it over to Mercedes. She glanced at it and her lips pressed into a thin line before she looked back up at the roomful of eyes staring at her. “Okay. So now you all know.” She pushed past Kurt and dropped the phone in Rachel’s lap on her way to sit in the empty chair next to Rory, all the way in the back of the room. Every head turned to follow her.

“What are you doing, woman?” Artie asked. “The last thing this club needs is a repeat of Jesse St. James.”

“What are you talking about?” she shot back at him. “He’s a nice guy I met at church. He’d never throw eggs at me and neither would any of his friends.”

“Which is exactly what I thought about Jesse,” said Rachel. “I’m not trying to be mean, Mercedes, but how would you even know if he was actually working you for information?”

“And, seriously,” Sugar added, smiling her best little sweet smile, “you really believe that it’s a coincidence that some hot, rich guy who just happens to be our competition is suddenly interested in _you_?”

“What exactly are you implying?” Mercedes’ voice raised to a pitch that Kurt had learned from long experience it was best to avoid.

“That there’s no way someone like that would date someone like you,” Sugar said in a tone of utmost helpfulness. “He’s totally using you to spy on us.”

Mercedes pushed herself up out of her chair and Kurt flinched reflexively, knowing what must be coming, but at that moment the door opened again and Mr. Schue bustled in, apologizing for being late as he settled his things on top of the piano.

“Look,” Mercedes said to no one in particular, obviously trying to keep her emotions in check, “I like David and he likes me. He’s not a spy. He’s not Jesse. He’s just a nice guy. And if he asks me out again I’m going. That’s all there is to it.” And with that she turned her attention to Mr. Schue with laser intensity.

In front of him, Kurt heard Rachel whisper to Finn, “We are so screwed.”

It was Sugar who responded, leaning forward to murmur, “No we’re not. I just got the best idea!” 

* * *

"David you sneaky son-of-a..." Unexpected voices drew Sebastian’s attention and he threw a casual glance over his shoulder from where he was seated at his desk just in time to see Nick and Jeff tumble unceremoniously through the open doorway into his dorm room; a flailing mass of legs and elbows that really could only be associated with the infamous couple.

The two of them powered into the middle of the room, only sort of collecting themselves as they bounced excitedly. It was so incredibly reminiscent of Sebastian’s fifteen-year-old sister at her most hyperactive that Sebastian couldn't help grinning as he turned his attention back to the calculus homework in front of him. It wasn't at all uncommon for the two boys to come bounding in unannounced and literally make themselves at home in Sebastian’s shared dorm room, so he didn’t really feel any obligation to entertain the duo. Plus, it sounded like they weren't looking for him anyway.

Nick's head whipped around as he surveyed the small room. "David?" he asked questioningly, as if he half expected Sebastian’s roommate to be hiding underneath the bed, and at any moment to leap out shouting "Surprise!"

"Not here," Sebastian mumbled, absentmindedly chewing the end of his pen as he tried to work out why the book said the answer to 8(d) was 3x+4 when _clearly_ the answer was 5x-2.

"Oh," Nick replied with a slight pout to his voice, sounding for all the world as if David not being around was a personal affront. "Why not?"

Sebastian sighed, still not looking up from his paper. "Fuck if I know, I'm not his mother am I?" He wondered if they would get bored and go away if he ignored them for long enough. He liked Nick and Jeff, really he did, but they had a tendency to be _so damn hyper_ all the time, and he needed to get this done before Monday or Mr. Beckwith would have his head on a shiny silver platter.

Unfortunately it seemed like luck was not with him today as a second later he heard the tell-tale screech of springs that meant the two boys had made themselves comfortable on David's bed on the other side of the room; obviously they were intending to wait this one out. Swiveling around on his desk chair he eyed the two with obvious disapproval. “I think he said he was going into town, something about running errands. What's it to you anyway?"

Jeff crowed happily, clapping his hands together with obvious excitement. "Oh so _that's_ what the kids are calling it nowadays, ‘running errands.’" 

"Watch it sophomore,” Sebastian chided gently. He and David got along well with Jeff and Nick because of their participation in the school’s glee club, but he knew more than one senior at Dalton who still held the belief that underclassmen should show automatic deference to upperclassmen - such was the way of a private boys’ boarding school - and Sebastian felt he had a moral obligation to remind the younger boy of this fact before he got into trouble with one of his less lenient peers.

Nevertheless, Jeff’s statement was enough to finally pique this particular senior's interest, and he raised an eyebrow at Nick curiously. "What is he talking about?"

Nick's face split into a broad grin, and he leaned forward conspiratorially as he began talking. "So Jeff and I were over in Lima earlier, watching the new Jason Statham film at their poor excuse for a multiplex, the movie was total crap by the way -"

"Lies! It was incredible!” Jeff interrupted with an offended gasp. Nick snorted and twisted so that he could shoot an appropriately disdainful glare at the boy sitting next to him.

"Shut it Sterling, it was the worst film I've seen in years."

“Just because your idea of a good movie is The Notebook -”

“Hey! That’s a classic!”

"So, you were in town…” Sebastian prompted before the two of them could get sidetracked too badly. “I’m still struggling to see where this is going."

Nick paused for a second to stick his tongue out at Jeff – and there was Sebastian’s sister again - before turning his attention back to Sebastian, frowning slightly as he tried to remember what he had been saying. "Right, well we were on our way back to the car, and we walked past Swinkies, you know that new place on West High Street? It sells the most incredible carrot cake, that place, I swear it literally melts in your mouth-"

"Nick...” Sebastian warned as the other boy started to veer dangerously off-topic again. Nick shook himself out of his carrot-cake-induced reverie with a small self-deprecating smile.

“Sorry, sorry, so we were walking past Swinkies, and through the window we see David..." Nick paused in a clear attempt to create suspense, before grinning maniacally and practically whooping "…with a girl!"

Sebastian groaned. After all that build up, talk about a letdown. "So?" he questioned dismissively. "I know Dalton can be one hell of a bubble at times but girls do actually exist you know."

Nick scowled at Sebastian’s lack of enthusiasm for his obviously juicy gossip, but it was Jeff who jumped in to defend their bounty. "No like a _girl_ girl, they were holding hands and everything!"

Sebastian threw his hands up to frame his face in mock horror. "Not holding hands?! Well that changes everything - call the authorities! I mean, holding hands is only one deviant thought away from fornication in public, sweet Jesus think of the children!" Sebastian dropped the mocking facade and directed a level gaze at the boys on the other side of the room as he took on a more somber tone. "Seriously guys, grow up. What you saw means nothing; she could be a friend. She could be family. Hell, she could be a family friend for all we know! He's not on a date. I would know; he would have told me."

Nick shook his head adamantly "No it was _definitely_ a date, look we took a picture." Digging in his pocket he brandished his iPhone victoriously for Sebastian to inspect. Sebastian leaned forward to peer at a blurry picture, which looked like it had been taken from behind a large bush (and Sebastian couldn't help snorting at the mental image he was suddenly provided with of Nick and Jeff hiding behind a shrubbery, cackling as they spied on their friend from across the road). Sebastian had to admit that the evidence seemed to be against him; David did look to be very – intimate - with the girl, whoever she was, but still...

"Doesn't prove anything," he growled, shoving the phone back towards Nick, who was wearing an expression that suggested he knew he was well on the way to winning this round. “Look, I’m telling you that if David was on a date I would _know_ , so just drop it okay?”

 Nick opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a sandy-haired figure popping into view around the still partially open door.

"Heyyy Seb,” Matthew drawled as he sauntered into the room, casually brushing a lock of hair that had fallen into his slate-grey eyes out of the way as he threw an obviously flirtatious grin in Sebastian’s direction. Matthew was one of Sebastian's teammates from lacrosse, and it was safe to say he definitely had the body of an athlete; all lean lines and toned abs, and a particularly nice ass if Sebastian was being scrupulously honest. In fact, the only reason Sebastian hadn't already tapped said ass was because Matthew made very little secret of the fact that he was completely infatuated with Sebastian, and Sebastian had a sneaking suspicion that Matthew would be seriously against the 'fuck-and-dash' Sebastian usually employed with his hook-ups. Sebastian shuddered internally at the concept; nothing was more of a boner-killer than _feelings_. Well, that and the fact that interacting with Matthew was about as dull as watching paint dry.

Matthew obviously hadn't quite grasped Sebastian’s very firm stance on their status as 'just friends' - or if he had noticed he chose to ignore it - because he never wasted an opportunity to be around the other boy. "I was just thinking that there’s just about enough time before dinner to get in some practice for next week's... Oh hey Niff," he trailed off disdainfully when he noticed the other boys in the room, who were both eyeing Matthew with thinly veiled calculation.

Sebastian tried in vain to hide the scowl that flitted across his face. Pretty much everyone who knew the pair nicknamed them Niff affectionately - it was so rare to find one without the other after all - but somehow Matthew managed to make the word seem like an insult; condescending and derogatory and dismissive all at the same time. Sebastian briefly considered saying something - 'Niff' were his friends after all - but Nick had already sprung off the bed, looking far more excited than offended. "Hey Matty, your cousin goes to that public school over in Lima, right? Do you recognize this girl at all?" Nick shoved the incriminating photo into Matthew’s face before the boy had a chance to say anything in response.

Matthew frowned at the interruption but peered obediently at the photo. "Hmmm. Actually, she sort of looks like one of the girls from that awful glee club she’s in, whatever it’s called. Mother dragged me along to one of their performances last year to keep Aunt Sophia company, it was completely traumatizing.” Matthew paused just long enough to give a put-upon sigh before continuing, “Mother keeps suggesting that she send the children to Crawford, she even offered to help cover their tuition, but Uncle is so pig-headed about not accepting help from the family. It’s just so sad to think about what those poor girls are going through at that _delinquent_ school.”

"Uh huh, uh huh," Nick muttered vaguely as he turned back towards Jeff with a pointed head nod and eyebrow wiggle. To Sebastian it pretty much just looked like Nick was having trouble digesting his lunch, but clearly Jeff was more attuned to Nick’s non-verbal communication skills as his face split into a broad grin and he leapt up eagerly to grab Sebastian’s MacBook off the bedside table (Sebastian’s indignant cry firmly ignored, as usual). Settling down on the bed he peered intently at the screen and started to mash the keys furiously, muttering “New Directions, New Directions, of course,” under his breath as Sebastian turned to look questioningly at Nick.

“We competed against their glee club last year at Sectionals,” Nick explained with a small shrug, his eyes not quite meeting Sebastian’s as he talked. “They were… well they were alright I guess.”

Sebastian frowned at Nick’s words, not quite understanding why Nick looked so awkward, before something David had told him a while back shoved it’s way to the front of his brain. “They beat you!” he exclaimed with a small laugh, clapping his hands together and smirking at Nick who was now scowling at the floor.  “They’re the public school kids who beat you last year aren’t they? Oh that’s _got_ to be embarrassing.”

“They didn’t beat us.” Nick muttered sullenly as Sebastian cackled. “We were having a bad day, that’s all.”

“Well don’t you worry your pretty little head, Duval. The one and only Sebastian Smythe is here to make sure the Warblers don’t have ‘a bad day’ again this year.” Sebastian spoke seriously, patting Nick on the head as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, easily betraying how funny he was finding this whole scenario.

Nick growled and swatted Sebastian’s hand away, turning back to Jeff and pointedly ignoring Sebastian who was now swiveling around on his chair with his arms crossed lightly in front of him. They were still completely wrong about David, obviously, but it was hard to deny that this little escapade had suddenly gotten a lot more interesting. “Come on Jeff, how long does it take to find one measly show choir on YouTube?” Nick asked impatiently.

“Almost there,” Jeff muttered distractedly, his fingers flying across the surface of the keyboard as he drew his lower lip through his teeth as he concentrated. The three other boys waited with bated breath – Sebastian’s calculus homework long forgotten - and after a couple more minutes of quick-fire googling Jeff grinned and flipped the laptop around so that the other boys in the room could see what he had found.

“Gentlemen, I present to you the McKinley High New Directions!” he said with unconcealed excitement as the four boys crowded around the laptop to watch the YouTube clip that had started to play. The first strains of Journey’s “Any Way You Want It _”_ blared out from the tinny laptop speakers, and for a while all four boys were silent as they watched the group perform. Sebastian frowned slightly – even the poor sound quality couldn’t detract from the fact that the group were actually really quite good, and suddenly he was feeling a lot less confident about his brash statement to Nick earlier. Not that he would ever admit that to the others of course, and not that it would matter in the long run anyway. As club captain there wasn’t a chance in hell of some tiny public school choir beating _his_ Warblers. Not this year.

“There she is!” Nick exclaimed excitedly, jabbing at the screen with his forefinger. “Second row, third from the left.” Four heads craned even closer to the small screen, tilting unanimously as they tracked the tiny pixelated character’s movements across the stage. If Sebastian hadn’t been focusing so hard on the action he probably would have thought to tell Matthew in no uncertain terms exactly where to shove it when his hand _just happened_ to fall into Sebastian’s lap, dangerously close to his crotch, but as it was he simply frowned and straightened back up, lifting up Matthews hand and returning it to his own lap wordlessly.

“Well she’s got some pipes on her, I’ll give her that much,” Sebastian acknowledged begrudgingly as the music started to segue into the familiar introduction to “Don’t Stop Believin’”. “But even so, this still doesn’t prove anything."

“Oh shush, Smythe. Just admit that you lost for once.” Nick laughed as he cranked up the volume and started to sidestep-shimmy-clap along with the beat to raucous applause from Matthew and Jeff.

Sebastian glared at the younger boy and opened his mouth to well and truly put him back in his place. “I don’t recall losing anything, you scrawny-” but then Jeff gave a low whistle and skipped back a couple of seconds in the video, distracting Sebastian just enough to let himself be interrupted.

“Hey some of these New Direction boys are pretty easy on the eyes; take a look at this one next to our mystery girl here.”

Sebastian’s curiosity got the better of him and he abandoned his verbal assault on Nick and redirected his focus back to the laptop, where a slender boy with meticulously styled brown hair was in central camera shot for all of five seconds.

It was a brief image, but Sebastian would have been able to tell in half the time that the boy was pretty much a walking wet dream. He seemed to pull focus despite the fact that a completely separate pair were currently singing lead - a great hulking beast of a guy and a much shorter girl who, while clearly talented, kind of looked like she’d make you want to gnaw your own arm off if you ever got into a conversation with her – and Sebastian could freely admit to himself (but never _ever_ to anybody else) that the boy was utterly captivating as he bounded around the screen with eyes that sparkled with the sheer joy of performing.

“Oooh, does our Sebby have a bit of a crush?” Jeff teased with a playful elbow nudge. “Maybe since you’ve gone through pretty much every available guy here at Dalton, David’s new chick can help you find one of these nice New Direction boys to settle down with for once”.

Nick gave a small laugh as he joined in with the ribbing, “Good shout Jeffster, maybe they can actually make an honest man out of our friendly neighborhood floozy here.”

It was gentle enough teasing for all intents and purposes, but it didn’t stop the chill that ran down Sebastian’s spine at the innocently spoken words. He stiffened; eyes flicking between the three boys who thankfully still had their full attention focused on the laptop in front of them. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, for once in his life completely at a loss for any sort of witty comeback that was his usual armor in these circumstances. He licked his lips – how had his mouth suddenly gotten so dry? – and gave a small cough as he tried to remember how to be the sarcastic bastard people usually encountered when interacting with Sebastian Smythe.

Thankfully he was saved from actually having to give a response because at that exact moment the door creaked open, and the crux of their heated conversation sauntered casually into the room. David gave an easy smile and brief wave in their general direction as he loosened his tie and flung his jacket across the back of his desk chair. “Hey guys, how’s it…” he started to say before trailing off, a small frown flickering across his face as he took in the awkward expressions and shifty eyes that were currently focusing on anything in the room except for him. Jeff slammed the lid of the laptop shut and desperately tried to hide it behind his back as the Journey medley continued to play on loop, and Sebastian couldn’t help but snicker at how disastrous they all were at the whole acting subtle thing; his brief moment of panic shoved roughly to the back of his mind.

“Did I miss something?” David asked, confusion now clearly etched across his features. Sebastian saw his chance to straighten out this mess, and took the opportunity without thinking.

“David, tell these idiots that you weren’t out on some sort of "secret date" this afternoon; they’ve gone bat-shit crazy with nothing else to entertain them apparently.” Sebastian drawled, using his fingers to draw air-quotes around the words “secret date”, before turning to raise an eyebrow at the other boys in a clear “I told you so.” He and David had been friends for years, there was no way David would have kept something this important from him, not after everything that had happened in the past.

But instead of the laughed denials he had been anticipating, David’s face broke into a broad, slightly self-conscious grin. “Actually,” he said with a small shrug, “her name’s Mercedes, and she’s incredible.”


	2. Chapter 2

“- I'm telling you, she has the most beautiful singing voice you'll ever hear. We should definitely go to one of her performances next semester -”

Sebastian scowled at David's back as he trudged dejectedly along the pavement, his footsteps slowing to half pace as he tried to put off the inevitable. He still couldn't quite believe that he was currently looking forward to spending his Saturday night with a bunch of public school misfits – the limited edition set complete with airhead bimbos, Neanderthal jocks and homophobic assholes if his luck had anything to do with it – as opposed to having fun with the decidedly more appealing patrons of Scandals, which had of course been his original plan for the weekend.

When David had first suggested that Sebastian and the other boys accompany him to the party that was being thrown by one of Mercedes' friends, Sebastian had quite literally laughed in his face. They had been friends long enough for David to know that Sebastian didn't _do_ polite socializing, and the idea that he would willingly put himself through that sort of hell...well it was completely insane. Sebastian had told David as much, and had expected that to be the end of it

Except David had busted out the puppy-dog eyes, and played his best friend card (to be used a maximum of once a year - no refunds, no do-overs) and Sebastian had been trapped by his own goddamn morality. For all that he played a good game of “don't give a crap” most of the time, he genuinely cared about David, and if this stupid party really meant that much to him then Sebastian would suck it up and come with him.

It didn't mean he had to like it though.

“Yeah, let's go be cheerleaders for our competition, that sounds like an _awesome_ plan,” he spoke softly, intending for his snipe to go unheard. The quiet night air carried his voice farther than he had expected, though, and David twisted his head back toward Sebastian curiously. Sebastian winced, but simply raised an eyebrow at the other boy defiantly. He wasn't going to apologize for his words; he never did. 

Luckily it seemed that this new love-struck David had lost all grasp of sarcasm, because his face broke out into a massive grin. “See, I knew you'd come around to the idea of her, Seb. Honestly, she's amazing, and funny, and sexy-”

Sebastian sighed and zoned out David's ramblings once again. Now _this_ , this was a prime example of why he hated relationships; they turned normally high-functioning individuals into absolute morons.

“He's adorable isn't he,” Matthew whispered conspiratorially in Sebastian's ear and Sebastian had to physically repress his groan of despair. As if it wasn't bad enough that he was forced to endure the company of backwater Ohio ragamuffins for an entire evening, the powers-that-be had deemed it appropriate that he should have to do so with Matthew as his sole wingman.

Sebastian sent another curse in the general direction of Nick and Jeff; the wording slightly different but the bitter meaning just as cutting as the hundreds of others he had flung their way in the past forty-eight hours. It wasn't fair; just because they could claim “date night” they were apparently exempt from this unique form of torture. What did the world have against single people, Sebastian wondered as he nodded along mindlessly to whatever it was that David was waxing lyrical about now.

“You know, I reckon I'm pretty lucky that you two aren't into girls; if you were I'd probably have to fight you for Mercedes once you meet her.” David slowed so that he could fall in step with the two boys. He gave Sebastian a playful nudge with his shoulder, encouraging him to join in with the banter. “And I've seen you in Scandals Seb, I'm pretty sure that's not something I want to go up against!”

Sebastian laughed, rolling his eyes at his dopey friend. “Well luckily for you I'm pretty sure Scandals is going to be my stomping ground for years to come. Honestly Dave, I don't get why you'd want to shackle yourself to one piece of ass when there's such a delectable palette just waiting for you out there; it's completely beyond me.”

“Just because you've never been in love,” David laughed playfully, a split-second of unbridled enthusiasm for this game of back-and-forth flitting across his features before he realized what he had said and his face suddenly dropped.

Sebastian’s body tensed, and his footsteps faltered for a moment as everything went slightly fuzzy around the edges. He hadn't been expecting that, not from David of all people, and because he hadn't been expecting it, it completely threw his normally cool composure. It was only a momentary hesitation, though, and the next second he had gathered himself enough to throw a devious wink at David. “What are you talking about? I meet the new love of my life every week, it's not my fault they always get boring as soon as I've fucked them.”

It seemed David wasn't going to let himself off the hook as easily as Sebastian had, though, because his frown was still firmly in place as he nudged Sebastian again with his shoulder. This time the gesture was far softer; a silent apology of sorts. “Seb, you know I didn't mean...” he began to say.

“It's fine, really,” Sebastian cut in, throwing a pointed glance over at Matthew who was completely oblivious to the darker undertones that had crept into their conversation. “Don't worry. Seriously, your dick is doing all your thinking right now; you can't be held responsible for your actions when you’ve got girl on the brain.”

David's eyes were still wary as he reached up to squeeze Sebastian's shoulder, but it seemed that the mention of Mercedes had broken the tension and the next second he was back in full-gushing mode.

“-and her laugh, Sebastian, I swear it's like the voice of an angel, it's totally out of this world-”

A (very) small part of Sebastian was actually relieved when they reached the large red door that signaled they had arrived at their destination; he loved David, he really did, but there was only so much romanticism a guy could take without going absolutely mad, and Sebastian was definitely reaching his limit.

David bounded eagerly up the small set of stairs that led to the doorway with such enthusiasm that Sebastian made a mental note to talk to his friend – again - about playing it cool. The door was slightly ajar when they reached it so the three boys headed straight into the house without knocking, figuring they probably wouldn't be heard over the steady thrum of dance music that was blaring from within anyway. The front door opened into an empty hallway, but the cacophony of voices emanating from one of the side doors about halfway down the corridor made it pretty obvious where they were expected to go. David strode forward without hesitating.

“C'mon guys, you have to come meet Mercedes, you're going to love her,” he called over his shoulder, gesticulating wildly as he shepherded them towards the obvious epicenter of the party.

Sebastian followed David with decidedly more reservation in his footsteps, taking a second to compose himself before entering the lions' den, so to speak. Rolling his shoulders, he took a few deep breaths and felt his usual bravado settle into place. Tonight was going to be a train wreck, there was no doubt about that, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to let these Lima-losers get under his skin. Sebastian threw a smirk that was only a little bit forced at David as they reached the living room. “Wow, you really have it bad, don't you?” He laughed as David nodded eagerly, not even trying to contest the statement. The laughter died in his throat, though, as they entered the room and were promptly confronted by an indomitable wall of people.

“Christ, David, is the entire underbelly of Ohio here?” Sebastian asked incredulously as he tried to comprehend just how many people could possibly be crammed into such a small space.

David gave a small shrug. “I think it’s a joint thing between Sugar and her older sister, so yeah it’s pretty big I guess. Hey, there's Mercedes! I'm going to go grab her. You guys wait right here.” And in an instant David was swallowed up by the human sea as he started to make his way toward a cluster of strangers on the far side of the room.

“Wait a sec-” Sebastian started to say, not liking the idea of being left to the mercy of so many strangers (and yes, there was the letterman herd, right on cue), but it was no use. David was already halfway across the room before Sebastian had even opened his mouth. He really was a man on a mission when it came to this Mercedes girl, Sebastian couldn't help thinking. Damn him.

His gaze followed David as he reached the group and promptly slid his arm around the waist of a pretty girl who must be the infamous Mercedes, giving her a shy smile and then leaning down to kiss her lightly on the cheek. Sebastian snorted at the gesture. _Well aren't you the gentleman, Dave_ , he thought to himself as he watched Mercedes respond by grinning back up at David before starting to gesture towards various members of the group. They were all much too far away for Sebastian to be able to make out what they were saying, but it was fairly obvious that introductions were being made. They were a pretty large group, and Sebastian found himself getting impatient as David meticulously greeted each member in turn.

“Alright, hurry it along now,” he muttered to nobody in particular, his annoyance growing as he was forced to hastily sidestep in order to make way for four large jocks barreling through with little-to-no regard for who they flattened in their path. The music paused for half a beat as two girls fought over the iPhone plugged into the dock, and when it returned with Katy Perry blaring from the speakers Sebastian felt the last of his good-will go flying out the window. Between the obnoxious chorus of “Teenage Dream” and the catcalls of “ _Chug! Chug! Chug!”_ that were now echoing from somewhere to his left, he was pretty sure that this was what the outer circle of hell looked like.

“Oh David, you're in for a whole world of pain for dragging me to this,” Sebastian growled under his breath as he forced himself to breath slowly and not punch the guy who was now grinding against his girlfriend less than a foot from Sebastian's face. If he wasn't mistaken the prick was wearing a college sweatshirt too, just to add insult to injury. Great, absolutely fucking great. Just when Sebastian thought this party couldn't get any worse, he had to deal with what seemed like an entire Lima Community College fraternity as well.

Sebastian gave a loud sigh. This party was an unmitigated disaster, and he was going to tell David exactly what he thought of it when the other boy got back from-

Oh. Well. Now where had he come from?

Sebastian cocked his head unconsciously to the side as he watched David introduce himself to a slender boy with meticulously styled hair and narrow hips that made Sebastian's brain instantly flood with wholly inappropriate images. The boy's movements were fluid and graceful as he shook hands with David, his eyes appraising as he took in the taller boy from head to toe before giving a small nod; the new boyfriend had obviously passed the first surreptitious best friend test.

It took Sebastian longer than was probably acceptable to recognize him as the same boy from the New Directions video they had all been watching the other day - Kurt, he was pretty sure his name was - but in his defense the small screen hardly did him justice. Christ, the way he twisted to hug Mercedes, he was all long limbs and lean muscle; probably flexible as all hell...

Sebastian shook his head, mentally scolding himself as his imagination started to run away with him. This, this _Kurt_ might have a sinful enough ass but he was clearly innocent as anything, and that was a complete no-go zone for Sebastian. Just look at him, he was practically the definition of doe-eyed high schooler; it was almost painful. Sebastian watched as Mercedes whispered something in Kurt's ear and the boy's eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement, giving her a sly smile and a wink in return. Yep, he was obviously the type to go steady and attend proms and marry his high school sweetheart in every state where it was legal. Then settle down in the suburbs with babies and carpools and all that heteronormative bullshit. Definitely not a potential playmate. No. Definitely not. This one was for looking only. Visual relief from this hellhole of a party.

Sebastian gave a small sigh of relief as David started to turn back toward where he and Matthew were still standing, speaking quietly in Mercedes' ear as he did so. _That’s it David. Bring that girl over here so we can see if she passes my surreptitious best friend tests._ He needed the distraction from frat boy’s grinding. And maybe from a willowy form that should not in any way be so enticing.

Except it seemed the message hadn't quite gotten across to Mercedes as the next second she had grabbed David's hand and started to lead him towards a door on the far side of the room. _Away_ from Sebastian and Matthew. Sebastian scowled and gasped with outrage as David happily followed his girlfriend without so much as a backwards glance at his friends. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He _hated_ relationships, hated them with every fiber of his being, and this was exactly why. He and David had been best friends for _years;_ he had only come to this God-awful party to keep David company, and in less than ten minutes the other boy had effectively thrown Sebastian to the Lima-Heights wolves without so much as a “See you later”.

Sebastian gave a small huff, the anger in his body slowly being replaced with what felt uncomfortably like dejection. He had a bad track record with friends and their partners, and the idea of going down the same path with David stung more than a little. The problem was that the second one of his friends started dating they might as well not exist, because he had less than no chance of actually getting to see them. When the choice was between a sweet, loving, partner or scathing, condescending, bitchy Sebastian, they without fail chose the sweet and loving. And he couldn’t even blame them. But he didn’t have to like it.

Which was exactly why he was going to stay well clear of Bambi over there, with his perfect cheekbones and hips that were made for biting – no. He might be a bastard in a whole range of ways, but pretending to be something he wasn't just to get laid most definitely wasn't one of them. Which meant Kurt was strictly off limits. Completely, one hundred percent off limits.

“So, it looks like it's just you and me then,” Matthew piped up from next to him with a flirty wink, and this time Sebastian couldn't hide the loud groan that ripped through his chest. He needed to find and consume large amounts of alcohol. Fast.

* * *

Ninety minutes and seven wine coolers later found Sebastian leaning awkwardly against the wall in the middling-sized room which had been designated “dance floor” by the partygoers. Some good, hard spirits would definitely have been his beverage of choice given the circumstances, but unfortunately the liquor cabinet had been locked and the only thing he could find in Sugar's woefully under-stocked refrigerator had been those pink atrocities which tried (and failed) to pass themselves off as alcoholic. As such, Sebastian was still far too sober to even contemplate joining the throbbing mass of bodies that were currently swaying along to yet another generic Top-40 club beat. His single accomplishment of the evening had been to ditch Matthew somewhere that wasn’t right next to him trying to touch him in as many inappropriate places as possible.

His eyes scanned the crowd with vague disinterest, arms crossed in front of his chest and foot tapping along idly to the steady thrum of the bass. His gaze traveled over David and Mercedes (who were grinding as if there was no tomorrow), Mercedes' short girlfriend (who was backing a hulking football player into a corner with a devious look in her eyes), the dude with the Mohawk (who was hitting on every girl he could find), and finally returned for what felt like the hundredth time to Kurt. Fuck him. Possibly over a kitchen counter, or maybe in the shower.

Sebastian scowled and shook himself roughly. This was getting ridiculous. He was clearly going crazy from having spent the better part of two hours in the company of morons, and it was messing with his judgment. After all, it wasn't even as if Kurt was his _type_. That sweater-vest definitely came from a woman's clothes shop, and the fact that his pants clung to legs and hips and ass in spectacular fashion was completely negated by the fact that they were leopard print. Liza Minnelli leopard print.

Sebastian groaned and let his head fall back against the wall slightly harder than he had possibly intended. Wincing, he straightened up again just in time to see the slender boy gyrate his hips lazily in time with the music, the action providing a direct line to Sebastian's cock which was definitely not getting the memo about Kurt being _not his type._ Sebastian wanted to cry out in frustration, at this stupid party and its stupid occupants with their stupidly sexy dance moves that really shouldn't be sexy at all because someone that innocent _couldn't_ _possibly_ be that seductive and now, just to add insult to injury he was _this close_ to sporting a stupid boner in a room full of stupid jocks and really, could this stupid night get any worse if it tried?

Shoving off from the wall with an angry sigh Sebastian started to make his way toward the kitchen which branched off from the left hand side of the room. Maybe some water and some space (away from Kurt) would help cool him down.

Sebastian was just about to exit the room when he heard somebody shout his name behind him. Turning around slowly he saw David squeezing his way through the crowd toward him, his face flushed and eager from dancing.

“Hey Seb, I feel like I haven't seen you all night!” David's voice was breathless, with no trace of embarrassment as he fell into step next to Sebastian heading down the little hallway to the kitchen. Sebastian couldn't help the angry thoughts that flared to life in his head as he took in David's relaxed stance and comfortable joking, as if he hadn't completely left Sebastian to fend for himself for the last hour and a half.

“That's probably because you haven't; you've been too busy fawning all over your _girlfriend._ ” Sebastian's retort rolled off his tongue before he had time to think about what he was saying, a snide inflection coloring his tone on the last word. He immediately regretted it as he watched David's face fall, all the carefree happiness disappearing in an instant. Talk about being a crappy friend.

“Hey,” he spoke again, more softly this time, “you know I didn't mean that. Mercedes seems - she seems really nice okay?” If Sebastian was honest he had no idea what Mercedes seemed like; David hadn't introduced them yet and so any thoughts Sebastian might have about the girl were from a purely observatory standpoint. But the magic word “Mercedes” brought back David's trademark grin.

“She really is,” he replied slightly dreamily. “But what about you? Have you met anybody? Mercedes' friend Kurt seems really cool, and he definitely plays for your team.” He waggled his eyebrows conspiratorially.

“Was that your straight guy attempt at subtlety?” Sebastian snorted. “Because it completely failed.”

David seemed undeterred. In fact, he was kind of bouncing with excitement. “Here’s an idea! You should totally go dance with Kurt! He’s not with anybody, you’re bored, it’s perfect!”

Grinning at his friend's eagerness, it took Sebastian a second to work out what David was actually suggesting. As soon as he made out the words “you”, “dance” and “Kurt” though, his optimism instantly deflated. This was so not what he needed right now. He needed logic, and reason, and anything else that would convince him that dancing with Mr. Incredibly Inappropriate out there was a terrible idea.

“Oh my God! What if you guys hit it off? We could double date!”

And that did it. Jesus Christ - was David so far gone that he’d forgotten all of Sebastian’s rules? And the reason for those rules? He needed to shut all of this down before it spiraled even more out of control.

“Have you even bothered to take your eyes off your woman long enough notice anything about him?” Sebastian asked, forcing a strong note of incredulity into his voice to heighten the effect. “He’s as far from my type as anyone could possibly be. Have you seen what he’s wearing? Weren’t you the one who just said you were glad I don’t go for girls?”

David pulled back a little, obviously surprised by Sebastian’s attitude, and confusion replaced excitement on his face. “Why would you say something like that?”

Because he wasn't interested, there would be nothing happening that had even the slightest chance of leading to _dates,_ and maybe if he could convince David of this fact he could convince himself in the process. Giving a small scoff he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “There are thirty frat boys milling around out there, do you really think I should be on the dance floor wrapping myself around someone quite so flaming? I like my face the way it is, thank you very much.”

David frowned, clearly not quite understanding Sebastian’s protestations. Sebastian fixed David with his best “ _Are you really going to go there?_ ” face in response, and held his gaze until the shorter boy sighed, conceding victory to Sebastian for the time being.

“Fine,” he muttered with slightly less enthusiasm. “You could always dance with Matthew then, I guess he's not quite so _obvious_.”

This time Sebastian's protestations were entirely truthful. “Please, he's so desperate he'd probably take the suggestion of dancing as a marriage proposal. Even if I wasn't a lone ranger I don't think even you could fault me for wanting to steer clear of that train wreck.”

David barked a laugh at Sebastian's vehement rejection; the situation between Sebastian and Matthew was well known and well mocked throughout the halls of Dalton. “You've got me there,” he replied, throwing a small shrug in Sebastian's direction. “Can't blame me for trying though.”

“Once. I can't blame you once.” Sebastian replied, happy that they had finally moved away from this incredibly awkward topic of conversation. “Any more than that and you're just asking for it. Now come on, I can dance with you and your woman, at least, without fear of broken bones or marriage proposals.”

* * *

“I don’t go for girls.”

Kurt slumped further back against the wall, smacking his head against it with a thump that was hopefully less audible to others than it seemed to him. He laughed a silent, bitter laugh. What was it they always said about eavesdroppers? And did it count if you never meant to eavesdrop in the first place? All he’d wanted was a quiet place to hide for a while, when dancing with himself wasn’t cutting it any more and he’d felt himself slipping into a place that was much more self-pitying than he was comfortable with.

The party had been Sugar’s “best idea”. Get her parents to throw a big event (he still wasn’t sure what the occasion was but had heard everything from Sugar finally reaching a body mass of 18 to her older sister Candy having hit the two-week mark with her latest boyfriend), make sure Mercedes invited her Warbler, and take turns interrogating/questioning/investigating (depending on who you asked) him to determine whether his intentions were pure. It had been a dumb idea to start with, made completely ineffectual when the New Directions had immediately scattered in six different directions upon arrival. Puck was on a mission to find college women and hard alcohol, Santana and Brittany had holed up somewhere, safe in the knowledge that a glimpse of them making out would only excite the meathead frat types Sugar’s sister had apparently invited, Finn and Rachel were nowhere to be found, and Mike and Tina hadn’t left the dance floor since the party began. Neither, until about ten minutes ago, had Mercedes and David. Even if anyone had been inclined to start Operation Warbler Interrogation, they’d never manage to get the guy alone. He was honestly surprised Sebastian had managed to pry him away from her long enough to ruin Kurt’s night.

So, tired of both the futility of any action the Glee Club seemed to try and the isolation of being the dancing alone, non-flirting, designated driver, Kurt had gone looking for a quiet place to wait it out until Finn and Rachel could be persuaded to head back to the real world. The little study/library was deserted and just what he’d needed. He’d intended to grab a good book and settle in for the duration. Instead he’d had a front row seat for that little extra bit of humiliation he needed to make this a perfect Kurt Hummel night out.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, from people who had a lot more influence on his life than Sebastian Better-Than-Everyone Smythe. It shouldn’t hurt even more coming from a stranger, no matter how hot he was. But the fact was that, asshole stranger or not, Sebastian was gay. And not self-hating, closeted, need-to-lash-out gay, like Karofsky, but out, comfortable, actually-looking-for-physical-contact-with-another-guy gay. Which meant, essentially, that Kurt wasn’t just too gay for straight people, he was too gay for gay people. And where did that leave him? “He’s not my type,” would have been fine. After all, if the athletic guy they’d come with wasn’t hot enough for Sebastian then there was no way Kurt could ever be. But of course Sebastian hadn’t left it at that. So what was he supposed to do when he was rejected by his own kind?

Go home. That’s what he was supposed to do. A quick peep out the door told him the coast was clear so he slipped back into the crowd and began making the rounds trying to find Finn and Rachel. They weren’t dancing (although Mercedes had apparently snagged David back, with bonus Sebastian, and he tried not to feel bitter about the happy wave she gave him from where she was wrapped around her boyfriend or the stupidly graceful way Sebastian’s too-long body moved); they weren’t in the kitchen or the den, where Puck had finally succeeded in breaking into a liquor cabinet and was mixing up some concoction from an amazing array of bottles. The vast backyard was full of people but even after several embarrassing encounters behind various bushes, he still hadn’t managed to find them. He was just steeling himself to head upstairs and start peeking into bedrooms when he heard a familiar giggle from the very room he’d left fifteen minutes before. He poked his head back around the door to find Finn stretched out on the couch, making out furiously with someone he assumed was Rachel.

“Ahem,” Kurt cleared his throat over-noisily but the sound had no effect on the two lovebirds. “Hey!” he tried again, kicking at Finn’s foot where it hung off the end of the couch.

“Hey what?” Finn surged up from the couch, but stopped himself when he saw that it was Kurt. From deep in the cushions came a giggle that could only mean Rachel was already a sheet or two into Puck’s concoction.

“Kurt!” she exclaimed, “I can’t feel my lips!”

Kurt raised his eyebrows at Finn, who only stared back. “What?” the taller boy asked.

“I’m tired. I want to go home,” Kurt replied, his voice slightly snappier than the situation warranted, but he was fast reaching the end of his tether.

Finn grabbed Kurt’s arm and pulled him a little further from where Rachel had snagged a blue plastic cup from the coffee table and was concentrating on finishing whatever was in it. “Dude,” he whispered, “We can’t leave yet. I’m about half a cup away from being able to convince her to go find an empty bedroom.”

“I want to go home,” Kurt repeated. “And since I drove, you’re stuck.”

“Half a cup!” Finn repeated.

“What’s the big deal? Haven’t you guys been having sex since November or something?”

Finn lowered his voice even more. “Look, Kurt, you know how Burt got so protective of you when you went out with that one guy last month? And the little short dude before that?”

Kurt scowled at the reminder of his short, unsuccessful dating history, but nodded.

“Well that wasn’t just a Burt thing. It was a dad thing. And Rachel has two of them. It’s like, there’s one there every hour of the day or night. I have to take advantage of any opportunity!”

“Fiiinnnnn,” Rachel called from the couch. Kurt tried to keep his face severe, but Finn must have sensed weakening.

“Just give me an hour. Please. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Whatever you want.”

“I want to go home!” But fortunately for Finn, although not so happily for himself, Kurt never had been able to resist when someone genuinely seemed to need him. “One hour,” he hissed at his brother.

“Bye Kurt!” Rachel called to him even as she reached out to pull Finn back down on top of her.

He fled the sounds of their renewed making out, but quickly realized that he had no idea what he should do for the next hour. The kitchen, living room, and large open room where people were dancing were all packed full, and the upstairs was completely out of the question. He was pushing through the crowds in the dancing room, wondering if it was warm enough to just go wait it out in his car, when strong fingers suddenly wrapped around his upper arm.

“Kurt! Oh my God, this is perfect. I was just talking about you.” He was tugged into a corner where Brittany, who had snagged him out of the crowd, had trapped one very tall, dark and arrogant Warbler. “Guess what? Sebastian really is gay, just like Santana said. You guys should totally dance together. Even if he is out of your league, you still might be able to get something out of him.”

The absolute last thing Kurt wanted to do at that moment was move his head the quarter turn it would take to face Sebastian, but since there was almost no chance the earth was going to swallow him whole and the odds of someone screaming “fire” and starting a stampede (he briefly flirted with the idea of just doing it himself) were slim, he forced himself to raise his eyes to face all six-odd feet of Sebastian’s disdain. Hopefully he would reject the idea of dancing with Kurt quickly so he could go find a bush to die of embarrassment behind.

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian was even more attractive up close than he had been from afar. Even while staring down at Brittany like she was a monkey who’d learned to speak. And, of course, that got Kurt’s back up even more. It was fine for their friends to think Brittany was nuts, but an outsider, especially a jerk like Sebastian, had no right to judge her. Kurt was in full glare mode by the time Sebastian turned his attention to him. His lips (pretty lips, the full bottom one just screamed to be tasted) twisted into a smirk. Kurt pushed all thoughts of tasting lips out of his head and smirked right back, raising an eyebrow in what he hoped looked like a challenge. Go ahead, he thought, say it to my face this time. 

Sebastian answered Kurt’s challenge with a raised eyebrow of his own. “It’s not the worst offer I’ve had tonight.”

Which, while definitely back-handed, still sounded like a yes. And that wasn’t remotely what Kurt had expected to hear. His confusion must have shown on his face because the smirk on Sebastian’s simply got wider. He had a sudden irrational urge to smack it off Sebastian’s pointy rodent features. Instead, he turned and smiled gently at Brittany.

“Thanks for thinking about me, Britt, but I’m not going to dance tonight.”

“Oh! But you two would look so good together. Santana says that boys making out is really hot, and I’ve never had a chance to watch that.”

Sebastian made a tiny noise, like he was holding back some bigger reaction. Kurt kept his eyes focused only on Brittany. “Seriously, Britt. I can’t dance tonight. There are way too many drunken frat boys here just waiting for a chance to rearrange a flaming face.” He turned back to Sebastian, happy to see realization dawning there. “And I happen to like my face just the way it is, although not everyone would agree with that.”

Sebastian had the good grace to blush, at least, although he didn’t look anywhere near as uncomfortable as Kurt had hoped he would.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Brittany said, grabbing Sebastian’s hand in her own. “Come on, gay Warbler. I’m half gay so you can dance with me instead. I’ll have to figure out all your secrets myself.” She pulled an astonished-looking Sebastian behind her as she shoved her way in between bodies on the dance floor.

If Sebastian was taken aback by their exchange it didn’t seem to stop him, once he got to the dance floor, from enjoying himself. And the disdain Kurt felt for him didn’t stop him from enjoying what he saw. Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Sebastian on a dance floor was the closest thing to sex in motion Kurt had ever seen, and they were close enough to the edge of the dance floor that Kurt had a perfect view of a firm ass in jeans tight enough to leave no doubt about what Sebastian was looking for when he wore them. He should just walk away, Kurt told himself, but he’d given Finn an hour and what else did he have to do? Besides, you could appreciate how hot someone was without actually wanting to ever have anything to do with them, couldn’t you?

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Hummel. I don’t think the Mottas want you drooling on their floor.” Santana slid across the floor in her bare feet and came to a stop, staring just as intently at the dancing pair as Kurt was.

“I wasn’t . . .”

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Santana smiled.

“Yeah,” Kurt sighed, except he wasn’t quite sure that “yeah” was for Brittany.

“Well, I’m going to take advantage of the fact that straight dicks like lesbians and go dance with my girlfriend.” She smirked at him. “Maybe someday the Warblers’ll throw a nice gay party and you can actually dance with the bean pole. It could be kind of hot.”

“Please. That is one thing you’ll never see. I’d dance with Puck first,” Kurt snorted, hoping that the flush he felt at Santana’s words hadn’t spread to his cheeks.

“That could be hot too.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and began to thread her way through the dancing bodies toward Brittany.

Sebastian was smooth. There was no awkward pause when Santana cut in to claim her girlfriend. He moved easily toward the far wall as if he’d intended all along to stop dancing at just that moment. Kurt wondered if anything ever flustered him. Even standing against the wall looking around for his friends he didn’t look so much wallflower as on the prowl.

“It’s not fair, is it?”

Kurt spun around to see who had whispered much too close to his ear. He found himself looking just a little bit down at a gorgeous boy (guy, he amended, because he was clearly more than a boy) with short blonde hair, intense blue eyes, and the most beautiful smile. Directed at him. He only just stopped himself from looking over his shoulder to see if there was a pretty girl standing next to him.

“What?” He stammered, hating himself just a little bit for not being able to come up with anything more eloquent.

The blonde head tilted in the direction of Santana and Brittany dance floor. “They get to dance together and we can’t. It’s not fair.”

Kurt really wanted to say something, but he was struggling to comprehend what could possibly be happening. Because it sounded like the gorgeous blonde was doing some kind of gay commiserating, with _him_ , and that couldn’t be right, could it?

The sandy eyebrows came together a bit above the beautiful eyes. “That was my obviously much too subtle way of telling you that I’d totally ask you to dance, if I could.”

Kurt was still trying to get his face to obey his brain’s command to close his mouth and stop looking like an idiot when the guy stuck out a hand and said, “I’m George, by the way.”

People their age didn’t shake hands. Kurt had never shaken hands with anyone under the age of 30. The only reason he could think that George was offering his hand was that he wanted to touch him. And that idea wasn’t helping him to look less like an idiot.

But he took the hand anyhow. It was warm and strong and lingered in Kurt’s as the eyebrows went up a bit in question. Oh.

“I’m Kurt,” he managed.

“Nice to meet you Kurt,” George said, finally letting go of his hand. “So how did you end up at this glorified kegger?”

 _Get it together_ , Kurt told himself. A cute guy was flirting with him. There would be time later to wonder at the fact that something like that could even happen. He forced his mouth to move. “I go to school with one of the hostesses.”

“Really? Me too.”

“Not McKinley?” Kurt regretted that as soon as he said it because George was obviously too old to be in high school. But the other boy just smiled back, completely unfazed.

“No, I go to LCC.”

“Oh. What are you studying?”

“I’m just taking general ed stuff. I want to transfer to OSU in the fall, if I can find a way to pay for it. I’m thinking architecture, actually.”

Kurt’s brain was finally starting to unfreeze and he finally managed a genuine smile. “That’s great. I hope it works out for you.” He cringed a little inside at how much that sounded like a cue to end the conversation. “I mean, architecture is so interesting, building, making places more beautiful . . .” God, he sucked at this. He would have been surprised that the guy was still talking to him if he wasn’t still busy being surprised that he’d spoken to him in the first place.

But George only flashed that high-wattage smile at him again. “Well, I’ve always been interested in things that . . .” But he trailed off and focused over Kurt’s shoulder and the smile that had been genuine suddenly didn’t reach his eyes any more. Kurt turned to see what he was looking at and almost bumped into Sebastian, who was suddenly standing right behind him and, for the first time that night, looking very much less than composed. Eyes that were catching enough light for Kurt to see they fell on the greenish side of hazel flickered back and forth between Kurt and George.

For a moment they all stood awkwardly silent, Sebastian looking like he hadn’t quite decided whether to speak, George looking . . . kind of wary, which confused Kurt, but since this was already a contender for the most confusing night of his life he just turned to Sebastian with raised eyebrows and waited for him to speak.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian finally asked him.

Kurt couldn’t begin to understand what Sebastian thought he was doing. Several different answers flitted through his brain, but he finally settled on, “How is that any of your business?”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and he pulled back just a bit in a move that on anyone else would have been a flinch. But Kurt was pretty sure Sebastian Smythe never flinched. His gaze flickered to George and back again. His mouth opened and closed. Then with a little shake of his head he replied with, “Right. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”  And with that he turned on his heel and walked back across the room. Kurt watched him shoulder his way through the mass of dancers before turning back to George.

“What the hell was that?”

George, however, didn’t look anywhere near as surprised as Kurt would have expected. “I think that might have been more about me than you,” he said. “I used to go to Dalton Academy.”

“Wait, so you know each other?” Kurt asked, confused, because they hadn’t actually spoken to each other.

The wide shoulders pulled up in a short shrug. “I sort of dated him.”

And things just kept getting weirder.

“It’s . . . well, it didn’t end well,” George continued. “It was kind of a mess, actually. He’s part of the reason I’m not at OSU right now.”

Kurt could only stare at George, trying to process what he was saying. “What happened? No, wait, that’s none of _my_ business and I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay,” George smiled. “It’s just that it’s a long story and I don’t really want to tell it here, especially with him in the room.” His smile widened. “How about this. Why don’t I tell you all about it when we’re having coffee after the movie?”

Movie? “What movie?” Kurt asked faintly.

“The one I’m asking you out to,” George said. “Will you go out with me?”

Kurt nodded, not even bothering to trust his voice.

“Give me your phone.”

He dug in his pocket and handed it over. George’s fingers moved swiftly over it. They were nice fingers, and Kurt had to consciously drag his eyes away from them when George handed the phone back.

“Okay, now you have my number and that way if you’re just humoring me you don’t have to worry about me bugging you. It’s all up to you. Call me, or not.” He flashed that smile again and it made his blue eyes sparkle like sunshine on water.

“I will,” Kurt managed.

“Good,” George held out his hand for another shake that was much more of a caress that sent a little shiver down Kurt’s spine. “So I’ll see you.”

He drifted away then, moving in the opposite direction from the way Sebastian had gone. He didn’t look back, but Kurt could have sworn he wiggled his ass just a little more than necessary as he walked away. Showing off for him. Showing off for Kurt.

No question. Weirdest night of his life by a country mile. But he’d definitely take it.

* * *

Sebastian forced himself to walk away slowly, one foot in front of the other, back straight, head held high. He might be kicking himself on the inside, but he wasn't about to let anybody around him know that; least of all the two boys he had just walked away from.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered softly under his breath as he reached the far side of the room, finally allowing his shoulders to slump as he leaned against the wall with a sigh. By this stage the majority of partygoers had shot well past tipsy and were definitely on their way to being totally hammered, so nobody gave Sebastian more than a passing look as he let the wall support more than a little of his weight.

He should have just left them to it; it was none of his business after all. He didn't even know why he had felt the need to say anything in the first place - well no that was a lie, he knew exactly why his feet had taken him over to interrupt their conversation, but that didn't mean he _should_ have done it. He was an idiot, plain and simple, and even worse he had made himself look like an idiot in front of Kurt. And in front of _him_.

It was some twisted form of masochism that kept his eyes trained on the pair as they exchanged numbers, that kept him watching as the older boy held Kurt's hand for longer than was strictly polite as they parted. Every time George smiled with those sparkling blue eyes Sebastian felt his breath catch. He knew that smile, he knew exactly what it meant, and he wanted to run up to Kurt and scream, “Don't do this, it's not worth it.”

Except Kurt didn't know Sebastian, and he sure as hell didn't trust him after earlier. And why would he? Why on earth would he believe blunt, sarcastic, arrogant Sebastian, who apparently insulted him within plain hearing distance, over George with his dentist-white smile and dazzling eyes? History had proven that this was not a battle where Sebastian would come out on top, and every fiber of his being was telling him that he should just walk away. Walk away now before he got hurt. Self-preservation, wasn't that what Sebastian Smythe was all about?

One thing was certain, Sebastian thought with a painful sigh as he watched Kurt pause for a moment, looking almost incredulously down at his phone before walking away. If Kurt hadn't been off limits before this, he certainly was now.


	3. Chapter 3

“It was _so good_ to finally meet you properly Sebastian,” Mercedes said in the slightly high-pitched register of someone who was just being nice as she reached up to hug Sebastian goodbye.

“You too Mercedes,” Sebastian replied with the stilted tone of someone who had never really grasped the concept of “just being nice”. He gave Mercedes an awkward pat on the back and threw a panicked expression over her shoulder at David, who was trying and failing to hide his amusement at Sebastian's discomfort. Honestly, for somebody who spent a good proportion of his life grinding with strangers in clubs, Sebastian was surprisingly inept at polite socializing. Then again, maybe that explained more than it didn't. There wasn't exactly a whole lot of incentive to be a stellar conversationalist when you could get a guy from dance floor to bathroom stall in under ten minutes.

Mercedes drew away and repeated the gesture with Nick, Jeff and Matthew in turn (with varying degrees of enthusiasm depending on the person) as Sebastian crossed his arms and resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently. When Mercedes had come to visit David after school that afternoon, David had insisted that Sebastian and the others spend some “quality time” with his girlfriend, getting to know her better and all that jazz. Which was fine, really, except there was only so much who-was-hooking-up-with-who-and-who-was-mad-about-it talk that one man could take in the space of two hours, and Sebastian had reached his limit about an hour and fifty-nine minutes ago.

The worst bit had definitely been when Mercedes had started describing in great detail how Rachel had completely derailed their latest Regionals rehearsal with an ill-timed serenade to Finn; Sebastian had literally had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything in response. Really, by that point it would have only taken a couple of well-placed nudges to get Mercedes divulging the entire New Directions set list for their next competition, and it was only the death-glares being shot his way by David that had stopped him. Plus the fact that Sebastian Smythe didn't cheat. Any more.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” David pouted slightly as he scooped Mercedes into his arms and started nuzzling her neck. Sebastian sighed and subtly averted his gaze. There were some things he really did not need to see.

“Awww look how cute they are,” Nick gushed, wrapping his arms around Jeff and pulling the other boy closer, and no, “cute” was definitely not the word Sebastian would have used. Sickening, maybe. Possibly nauseating.

“I think you're pretty adorable yourself,” Jeff muttered quietly as he reached around to squeeze his boyfriend's ass, leaning down to press a possessive kiss to his lips, and Sebastian was pretty sure if he had to deal with any more PDA in such an enclosed area – okay so maybe the Dalton parking lot wasn't “enclosed,” but it was certainly feeling way too small right about now – he was going to explode. “Get a room guys,” he spoke loudly, hoping to give all of his loved-up friends a not-so-subtle hint.

Jeff and Nick broke away laughing. “You know what, that sounds like an amazing idea Sebby,” Jeff replied as he grabbed Nick's hand and started dragging his boyfriend back up the stairs towards Dalton. “See you later kids,” he shouted over his shoulder just before they both disappeared through the large entrance doors.

Sebastian breathed a small sigh of relief; hopefully the two boys leaving would prompt the conclusion of what was turning out to be the world's longest goodbye. Luckily it seemed to do the job as with a dejected sigh David moved to open the door to Mercedes' car and help her into the driver's seat. Sebastian had to redirect his gaze once more as the pair shared another passionate goodbye kiss (Again? Seriously?) and then – finally – David closed the door and stepped away to stand next to Sebastian and Matthew as they waved his girlfriend goodbye. Sebastian fidgeted slightly as he watched Mercedes turn the key in the ignition; there were still a good few hours left before curfew, and a couple of rounds of Pro-Evo with the boys sounded like a pretty good end to the evening.

“So I was thinking-” he began, but his words were cut off by a decidedly unhealthy spluttering erupting from the car in front of him, and his plans for the evening died at about the same time as Mercedes' engine.

Sebastian groaned inwardly as Mercedes shoved the door open and stepped out of the car scowling. David hurried over toward her anxiously, with Sebastian following at a slightly more sedate pace. Judging by the smoke seeping from under the hood it looked as if Mercedes wasn't going anywhere any time soon, which meant more quality best friend/girlfriend bonding time while they waited for the tow truck. Oh good.

“Stupid thing,” Mercedes muttered, kicking the tire of her beat-up Mustang angrily as she fumbled in her purse for her phone. “It keeps doing this!”

“I think it's time to get a new car,” Matthew said, crouching down to peer at the front vent where smoke was still billowing, and Sebastian couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Matthew’s words; surely even he couldn't be so oblivious to think that a simple “get a new car” was a viable option for most people. Although, Sebastian thought as the other boy wrinkled his nose in distaste at the acrid smell emanating from underneath the hood, this was Dalton, and Dalton wasn't exactly representative, if the rows of Jaguars and Porches were anything to go by.

“I think my parents are members of Triple-A?” David spoke warily, eyeing the car with more than a little distrust, and Sebastian had to stifle a laugh at just how incompetent they were all proving to be. Wasn't this something that boys were supposed to be good at?

“Nah don't worry about it, honey, I'll call Kurt. He and Rach were hitting up Westerville Mall today, and there's still tons time before the shops close so it's pretty safe to say they'll still be around.” Mercedes leant forwards to peck David fondly on the cheek as she hit the dial button on her phone and lifted it to her ear as it started to ring.

Sebastian frowned. She couldn't possibly be talking about the same Kurt from the other night could she? A brief image of the slender boy leaning over the hood of the car in his immaculately put together attire from the party flitted into Sebastian's brain, and he snorted at the picture. No, it couldn't possibly be _that_ Kurt. Even if he had to admit the boy would look particularly appetizing bent over like that (and no, he wasn't going to go there, especially not after how the other night ended), there was no _way_ that that Kurt would know enough about cars to fix smoke, and burning, and whatever else was wrong with the scrapheap Mercedes insisted on driving.

“Hey boo,” Mercedes' voice tore Sebastian from his musings, and he turned towards the girl curiously, wondering who on earth this other Kurt might be. “I’m at Dalton with David and my car's doing that _thing_ again...I know, I know...I've just been really busy with Regionals and with David...I'll bring it into the shop next week I _promise_ , can you just come and do that thing you did last time? Pretty please?” Mercedes paused for a second, nibbling her lower lip as the boy on the other end of the phone talked, before breaking into a grin and doing a little dance on the spot. “You're the best! Thank you babe, see you in a bit!”

Fifteen awkward, small-talky minutes later a big black navigator roared into the Dalton lot, and Mercedes leapt up eagerly from where she was sitting on the school steps next to David and the other boys. Running over, she threw herself at the driver almost before he had stepped out of the car. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she cried as the boy shimmied out of her death-grip, laughing. Sebastian was halfway toward standing when he recognized the figure and froze mid-movement. Yes, that was definitely _the_ Kurt from the party - what the hell?

David stood up and grabbed at Sebastian's elbow to drag him up from the weird half-crouched position he seemed to have gotten stuck in. “Come on guys, lets go say hi.” Sebastian sighed, there really was no getting out of this now.

By the time the Dalton boys had reached Mercedes and Kurt, the short brunette girl from the party had also climbed out of the car, followed by a much taller boy who Sebastian vaguely remembered her locking lips with for most of the night. Mercedes turned around, smiling brightly. “Guys, you remember Kurt, Rachel and Finn right?”

“Of course, how could we possibly forget?” David replied, ever the gentleman as he gave the trio an easy wave. “And did you guys meet Sebastian and Matthew?”

“You could call it that,” Kurt replied, his voice containing an unmistakable bite to it as he focused his piercing gaze on Sebastian. “I see your face survived the frat boys then. What a shame.”

“What can I say, I'm a natural charmer. You should try it sometime.” It was a weak comeback, Sebastian knew, and judging by the raised eyebrow from David – who was well accustomed to Sebastian's usually scathing wit – everybody else in the group knew as well. Sebastian gave a small shrug in David's direction; he didn’t quite understand it either.

“On that crowd of hopped-up party animals? I wouldn’t waste the energy. Idiots who think the world revolves around them aren't exactly my type”. Kurt hit back instantly, leaving little doubt in anyone’s mind about what adjectives he would use to describe Sebastian if ever asked. Before Sebastian had a chance to respond (which was probably just as well because Sebastian was drawing a complete blank) Kurt turned back to Mercedes, “Come on then, lead the way to that rolling death-trap you call a car.”

The group shuffled over towards Mercedes' car, with Kurt berating her every step of the way for not getting it looked at sooner. Sebastian quickly gathered that Kurt's dad owned a car-repair shop, which he guessed explained the bizarre situation he had found himself in where _Kurt Hummel_ knew how to fix an engine. When they reached the Mustang Kurt turned to Finn, shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to Rachel. “Give me your sweatshirt Finn.”

“Dude?” The taller boy asked curiously. Sebastian had to agree, it was a bit of an odd request. Kurt gave a put-upon sigh, “This shirt is Alexander McQueen, and as much as I love Mercedes I don't love her enough to get oil on his 2010 spring collection.” Kurt paused, beckoning at Finn expectantly, “and before you say anything, I've seen how you treat your clothes, Finn Hudson, so don't try and pretend you'll care if I get them dirty.”

Sebastian snorted as Finn shrugged and drew the football hoodie over his head, throwing it to Kurt who caught it deftly and pulled it on, rolling up the slightly too-long sleeves so he could work. Walking over to the front of the car Kurt popped the hood with a quick flick of his wrist and propped the metal up on its stalk.

“Finn, can you grab the toolbox from the-”

“Way ahead of you baby brother,” the other boy replied, thumping a massive steel box down next to the car before crouching down to rummage through its contents.

“I'm two months older than you Finn, two months,” Kurt teased good naturedly as he leaned over the hood and started poking at something in the depths of the engine, and Sebastian had to stifle a sharp exhale of breath as he was suddenly provided with a perfect view of Kurt's perfectly toned ass. It wasn't like he was interested in the boy or anything - he _wasn't_ \- but it was hard not to appreciate the male form when it was presented so nicely after all.

“It's a figure of speech bro,” Finn mumbled in response as he continued to sort through the many wrenches, screwdrivers and god-knows-what-elses in the box in front of him. “So whadda'ya think, crescent wrench or fixed-width?”

“I'll take the crescent wrench, but to be honest this belt is so rickety it might just be a hand job.” Kurt's arm stretched out to the side towards Finn, grasping blindly at the air for the tool as his attention remained focused on the car parts in front of him. Sebastian couldn't help laughing at the seemingly unintended innuendo and accompanying action.

“If that's your idea of a hand job I seriously worry about whichever boy is on the receiving end of your affections.” The words were out of his mouth before he remembered he wasn't talking to Nick or Jeff, and that the current company he was keeping probably wouldn't appreciate his crass humor. He was vaguely aware of a gasp of surprise from one of the girls, but all his attention was fixed on the boy in front of him, his body thrumming with energy as he waited to see how Kurt would react to the jibe. Kurt didn't even look up from the car, simply accepting the adjustable wrench from Finn's outstretched hand.

“You should see what I can do with a nut,” he replied, spinning the wheel on the wrench so that the teeth slammed closed with an audible ‘clack’. The sentiment behind the gesture was blindingly obvious, and Sebastian couldn't help raising an eyebrow at Kurt's lightning-quick response. It was a far more clever retaliation than he had been anticipating from Mr. Innocent over there, and for the second time that day his own usually flawless response time was shot to pieces. A long beat of silence fell, and Kurt twisted his head away from the inner-workings of car to shoot a pointed look at Sebastian as if to say _What? No comeback?_

“You know it really is incredible that you guys know how to fix this sort of stuff; it must be an absolute _lifesaver_ when you constantly have to rely on second-hand cars.” Matthew disrupted the non-verbal conversation between the two boys with a slightly mocking tone, giving Sebastian a pointed nudge as if encouraging him to share the joke. Sebastian broke away from Kurt's gaze to frown slightly at Matthew; it seemed a like an underhanded thing to mock somebody for, even to Sebastian where nothing was usually off limits. The sentiment was clearly shared by Kurt as well, who twisted toward Matthew with a look that could maim, torture and kill if given half an opportunity painted across his expressive features. “And what exactly is that supposed to-”

“So David,” Rachel interrupted, clearly trying to diffuse the suddenly awkward situation with the most obvious of all subject changes. “I think convention dictates that it's your turn to host the next New Directions/Warbler soirée, since Sugar and her sister did the honors last time.”

It was desperate attempt, but it was enough. Mercedes spun towards David with excitement practically radiating from her pores. “Oh yeah, that's an awesome idea, don't you think so Dave, honey?”

“Ummm...” David began hesitantly, throwing a slightly panicked look at Sebastian. Sebastian's eyes widened as he tried to convey through telepathy what a truly awful idea that was, and how David should shoot it down immediately. Unfortunately the message seemed to get lost in transit, because the next second David turned back to Mercedes with a bright smile on his face. “That sounds like a great idea. We'd all love to get to know your friends better, wouldn't we guys?”

Mercedes and Rachel squealed, grabbing each other's arms excitedly. “Yay, party!” Rachel exclaimed in what had to be the most inane statement of the evening, and Sebastian found himself desperately wanting to turn around and hit his head against the brick wall of the school building. The two girls started to discuss the intricacies of the get-together from hell (take two) as Sebastian shot death glares at David and resolved to put something particularly cold and squishy in his bed as payback.

“So how about next weekend?” Mercedes asked, looping her arm through David’s and peering up at him sweetly.

“Errr...I guess that could work,” David stammered, obviously feeling pretty out of his depth when confronted by the whirlwind of girl in front of him. Mercedes smiled and stood on tiptoes to kiss David's cheek, whispering “You're the best,” in his ear. Sebastian couldn't help thinking that his friend was being used for his party-hosting abilities ever so slightly, or maybe he was just bitter about the prospect of another weekend spent doing battle with Lima-losers and their keggers, by this point it was hard to say.

“Oh, that's perfect!” Rachel exclaimed excitedly. She leaned over the open engine and stage-whispered to Kurt, “If everything works out on Friday maybe you can ask George! We could double date!” She looked up again and prattled on to Mercedes, “Wait till you see what he bought to wear. Nobody could say no to Kurt in that outfit. I swear, this guy is going to absolutely _die_ when he sees it.”

Sebastian's chest felt like it had dropped into his shoes, and he could barely think over the sudden roaring of blood in his ears. He hadn't been expecting that, hadn't been expecting to have _his_ name dropped so casually into the conversation, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for George to come to a Dalton-hosted party. It had been bad enough seeing him at a stranger's house, but this was Sebastian's territory, and these were _his_ friends. George didn't belong here, not now, not after everything.

His whole body stiffened as the concept wormed its way into his brain and started to rot. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the memories of the last time George had been at Dalton, with the pleading and the yelling and Sebastian only just managing to hold it together until after he was gone, leaving David to pick up the pieces of the broken boy that was once Sebastian Smythe. He couldn't imagine being at another party where George was, not again, not on his turf, and not as Kurt's plus one.

Kurt. Sebastian opened his eyes to see the boy wiping his hands on his makeshift coverall and turning to smile bashfully at Rachel's words.

“I told you Rach, it's just coffee and a movie. It's not a big deal.” All the snark and the bite from earlier were gone, and in their place was a bashful schoolboy about to go on a date with a handsome college guy. Christ, he was the very picture of naivety, of innocence. Kurt was like a porcelain doll, and he would break even more readily than Sebastian had.

“I’d recommend a chaperone, Princess. Many an innocent virgin has sacrificed her virtue in the back row of a movie theater.” Sebastian's voice was dripping with sarcasm as he flung out the comment.

Kurt frowned, his brow creasing as he shifted slightly to focus his attention back on Sebastian. “I find it hard to believe that you've ever cared about anyone's virtue, including your own, so what's it to you?”

Sebastian shrugged, forcing an air of casualness into his voice. “Well why on earth would I bother with something that stops me from getting laid? I'm just looking out for you sweetheart; it's a big bad world out there.”

David turned curiously towards Sebastian. After so many years of friendship he had learned to read Sebastian's retorts pretty well, and Sebastian knew he could tell this was an attack based on discomfort and unease. “Wait, you’re not talking about...” David began questioningly, and Sebastian could tell exactly where that sentence was going and no, his history with George was _not_ being brought up in front of a bunch of strangers and the boy who was about to go on a date with him. Talk about looking pathetic, like a jealous ex.

“We’re talking,” he replied scathingly, taking a second to shoot a desperate look at David that begged him to _please, please, let it go, b_ efore turning his derisive gaze back to Kurt,“about an opportunistic college guy who thinks if he fucks a boy wearing girls’ clothes he won't have to come out to his parents just yet.”

The words whipped around the group like a slap, and instantly Sebastian wished he could take them back. Not because of the horrified looks on the girls’ faces, or the way Finn looked like he wanted to punch the crap out of him. Hell, it wasn't even Kurt's truly venomous stare that made him want to suck the words back into his chest, it was David. David, who was looking at Sebastian with something that looked horribly like sympathy in his eyes, because he knew exactly what those words meant to Sebastian. While everyone else in the parking lot saw a nasty piece of work looking to hurt their friend, David saw a friend who had already been hurt, who was still hurting even three years later. Sebastian glared back at the group, forcing himself to keep his head held high. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

The silence hung like a guillotine between them all, deafening in its quietness, until finally it was broken by Kurt, who gave a heavy sigh and dropped his wrench back into the tool-kit by his feet with a loud clang.

“You know what, I'm not even going to dignify something so petty with a response,” Kurt said, pointedly turning away from Sebastian to face Finn, who was hovering by the driver's-side door watching the exchange with equal amounts of anger and anxiety etched across his features. “Right, that should hold for now. Try giving it a whirl Finn?” The taller boy gave a quick nod and slid into the driver's seat, twisting the key in the ignition. The car coughed once and then revved to life, earning a small cheer from everyone present (Sebastian included, to his shame) and just like that the tension of before was broken, if not forgotten.

“My hero,” Mercedes exclaimed, throwing her arms around Kurt's neck and kissing him on the cheek. Kurt laughed and returned the embrace.

“Alright, alright, just promise me you'll bring it in for my dad to take a look at this weekend, otherwise next time I'm leaving you hanging Miss Jones.” Kurt drew back and squeezed the shorter girl’s shoulder affectionately. “Now let's head home before this hunk of junk decides to die on us again.”

The Lima kids turned and said their goodbyes, with David practically having to be dragged off Mercedes by Matthew and Sebastian after their seventh hug-and-kiss cycle. As the two cars pulled out of the Dalton parking lot David turned to his friends with a look of sheer panic on his face. “So - you'll both help me organize this party right?”


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt was not happy. This wasn’t at all how his date with George was supposed to go.

That is to say, everything was going beautifully. Their phone call to set things up had been shorter than he’d hoped it would be but, he told himself, you couldn’t really judge anything by that; some people just didn’t like talking on the phone. And once George had appeared on Kurt’s doorstep Friday night everything had been perfect. He hadn’t brought flowers or any other tacky gift-like thing (the half-dozen roses that Josh - the boy from two months ago - had brought had made Carole sneeze and made Kurt want to ask him how it was possible that his carefully selected skin-tight jeans had managed to lead Josh to the conclusion that he was anything but a boy) and when Burt had appeared behind Kurt to inquire about their evening, George had interrupted Kurt’s flustered “Dad!” with a firm handshake, a “George Deming, pleased to meet you, sir,” and a promise to have Kurt home before twelve. Burt looked positively smitten.

Their chit-chat in the car on the way to the movie theater had been much more satisfying than their earlier phone conversation and Kurt found himself laughing easily along with George’s stories about life at Lima Community College. He even told a few anecdotes of his own about the pitfalls of being in a high school glee club, striking just the right tone between self-deprecating and humorously above-it-all, and George was charming and relaxed and pointedly did not try to hold the car door for Kurt.

The theater was packed, which was kind of a relief since it meant that there was no need to worry about whether or how much physical contact would be acceptable. With no empty seats around them even hand-holding was out of the question, and Kurt decided it was much better to want to be holding hands but not actually doing it than to be holding hands and worrying about some Neanderthal in the row behind them getting wise and deciding to bust some (gay) heads.

All in all Kurt should have been having a wonderful time. And he was. He really was.

Except he couldn’t stop thinking about Sebastian.

Even with George’s obviously muscular forearm pressed against his on the armrest between them, even with George’s soft laughter indicating that he got all the right jokes and his occasional whispered comment in Kurt’s ear, all of which were smart and funny and just the thing Kurt himself was thinking at the moment, Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about Sebastian.

If he was being honest with himself, he really hadn’t stopped thinking about Sebastian since their encounter at Dalton when he’d fixed Mercedes’ car.

It was his eyes, Kurt had decided. Kurt was used to insults, he was used to people, even his friends sometimes, insinuating that he was more girl than boy. He was certainly used to ignorant jocks and closeted self-hating gays (who were sometimes one and the same) calling him names and trying every trick in the book to make him feel ashamed of who he was. Yes, it hurt that someone actually openly gay would use the same tactics against him, but other than that there really should have been nothing remarkable about Sebastian Smythe’s clever little attacks.

But Kurt had stared hate in the face most of his life and he understood what it looked like. It looked like anger and fear and disgust. It looked like _I’m-better-than-you_ and _run-while-you-can_. It looked like the assumption that whatever happened to him next would be all his own fault, simply because he dared to exist outside of what was “acceptable.” But though most of the words were the same, that was not at all what he’d seen in Sebastian Smythe’s eyes.

What he’d seen had looked much more like - challenge.

That was what Kurt couldn’t figure out. And try as he might he couldn’t get the image out of his head: those green eyes looking back at him, just looking, like there was some vital piece of information they were missing to completely draw his character. Those eyes were so at odds with the words coming out of Sebastian’s pretty mouth (No! Not pretty. Where the hell had that come from?) that Kurt found himself pondering the riddle of Sebastian even as he sat next to the handsome, blue-eyed college boy who’d flirted shamelessly with him, and asked him out, and was now moving his leg just enough so that their knees brushed together every time one of them shifted position even the tiniest bit.

By the time the credits rolled, the thought uppermost in Kurt’s mind wasn’t whether there’d be a goodnight kiss or who should call whom for a second date. No, what he wanted most was to get to a Starbucks and somehow get George to spill the story about Sebastian that he’d hinted at when they were talking at Sugar’s party. Which really only made him angrier with Sebastian.

“So, you seemed a little distracted. Didn’t you like the movie?” George asked when they were settled in cushy armchairs with their steaming lattes.

Crap. “No,” Kurt jumped to reassure him. “What’s not to like, right? I mean, Ryan Gosling, come on. No, I’m just fidgety. I can’t really sit still no matter what.” Kurt shifted in his chair to make his point.

George just smiled. “That’s weird, because you seem like the type of person who’s really good at being still. Watching, you know?”

That was so on point that it made Kurt a little uncomfortable. He didn’t like that he was apparently so easy to read.

"Okay," he admitted, changing tactics, "I guess I am a little nervous. There's something I want to ask you about, but I'm not sure if I should."

"About Sebastian?"

It was a little unnerving that George was so direct about it and instead of grabbing the opening Kurt found himself saying, " No. I mean, yes, but only sort of."

George looked amused. "Sort of?"

"Well, see, my friend is dating one of his friends, and there's going to be a party tomorrow, and I really want to invite you but I'm not sure if I should since he'll probably be there, and I’m sure you don’t want to see him especially after the way he acted at Sugar’s party and you should really tell me to shut up now . . ."

"Shut up." But George was smiling and he reached for Kurt's hand as he spoke so maybe the babbling hadn't been such a bad idea. A tiny thrill ran up Kurt's arm as George's warm fingers enclosed his own. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. It was years ago and I'm really okay with talking about it. But, I mean, if he's a friend of yours then I don't want to . . ."

"Oh God no!" Kurt interrupted vehemently. "No, I can't stand him, actually, and honestly none of us can understand why someone like David is friends with him."

George’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Do you mean David Marsh?” When Kurt nodded he continued, “Yeah I remember him. He seemed nice. But I didn’t really spend that much time with Sebastian’s friends.” He was still holding Kurt’s hand, and he didn’t let go as he spoke. “Okay, well it was my senior year; Sebastian was a freshman.”

“It wasn’t weird that he was so much younger than you?”

“Actually, it was only two years. He was fifteen when we started dating, and I was seventeen. But even at fifteen he was still Sebastian, you know? Still hot and so sure of himself - but I honestly figured he’d be an easy conquest. I mean, what freshman wouldn’t want attention from a senior? I never even saw him coming.”

He paused and took a long swig of his coffee, and when he put it back on the table his free hand, still warm from the cup, joined the other playing with Kurt’s fingers. Tiny movements that sent stabs of excitement through Kurt’s belly even as he tried to concentrate on the story.

“So you asked him out...” Kurt prompted, if only to keep himself on track.

“Oh, he positioned me right where he wanted me. I asked him out, of course I did, but he told me he couldn’t. He wasn’t really out yet and he was afraid that if his parents found out they’d, I don’t know, take away the car he was still too young to drive or something. So he said we had to keep it a secret. He’d come to my room and we’d fool around for hours, making out,” George shrugged and looked down at their hands on the table, “grinding, whatever. He’d give just enough to always keep me wanting more. We didn’t actually have sex until close to the end of the year, right before...well, in any case, he said I was his first.”

“But you didn’t believe him?” Kurt asked, still trying to focus on George’s words and not what his fingers were doing to Kurt’s body.

“He seemed to know what he was doing,” George shrugged, “and then right after we did it for the first time he told me he needed me to help him with something important.” He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then raised his eyes to Kurt’s once more. “He needed me to get a test for him.”

“I don’t understand.” It was information overload, and Kurt’s brain was struggling to keep up with the abrupt 90-degree turn the story had just taken.

“I was on the spring dance committee. He knew that. So I spent a lot of time in the office - it’s where we’d meet after school to plan and we had to run everything by the headmaster . . . he told me that he was failing Algebra and that he needed me to get into the office, use one of the computers there to access his teacher’s resource page and print out the final exam for him. He said if he failed his parents would pull him out of Dalton and I’d never be able to see him.”

Kurt was shocked. He didn’t know Sebastian at all, really, and he certainly didn’t like him, but using sex to persuade George to cheat for him? When he was only fifteen? That was definitely out there. “You didn’t agree to do it?” he asked.

George looked back down at the table and color rose in his cheeks. “What was I supposed to do? I thought I was in love with him.” He looked back up and Kurt could see how upset he was. “He cried, Kurt. Real tears. How was I supposed to tell him no? And, to be honest, I wanted to do it. I wanted to be his hero.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said in the face of George’s obvious distress. “You don’t have to tell me any more. I know it must be painful...”

“No, it’s good, actually. Kind of therapeutic. I’ve never really told anyone the whole story before.” George smiled a little and his hand tightened on Kurt’s.

“So what happened?”

“I got caught. I didn’t know they had ways of monitoring computer activity and the secretary remembered going to the restroom and leaving me alone at the time the test was printed, so they had me cold, you know? But they couldn’t figure out why I would steal a test for a class I wasn’t even in.”

“Did you tell them?” There had to be a happy ending, Kurt thought, the bad guy couldn’t win. Maybe that was how his stories always ended, but that couldn’t possibly be the case for handsome _perfect_ George, could it?

George shook his head. “I couldn’t. I didn’t. I kept hoping that Sebastian would come forward. I think they might have gone a little easier on me if they’d known the whole story. I mean, I was still responsible for my own actions, of course, but -” he sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I deserved what I got. I was stupid, you know? They put a report in my permanent record and, well, remember I said before that he was the reason I was at LCC?” 

Kurt nodded, almost afraid to hear what was coming next.

“I was a finalist for a scholarship from this architectural foundation. But after they marked my record, I was taken out of contention.” He smiled sheepishly. “So no scholarship and no OSU.”

Kurt tried to process everything he had just heard, his hand still sandwiched between George’s long fingers, staring into oh-so-sincere blue eyes. He struggled to think of the right thing to say. “I just . . . well, I guess maybe coming to a Warbler party is kind of the last thing you’d want to do, huh?”

George finally let go of Kurt’s hand and pushed himself up straighter in his chair. “No. You know what? I _will_ come to the party. Sebastian can find a way to avoid me, if he feels like he needs to, but I’m not going to let him scare me off from the chance to dance all night with you.” He flashed Kurt a genuine smile, all white teeth and sparkling blue eyes.

Kurt grinned back. “Well alright then,” he replied as they gathered up their trash and headed out to the car.

On the ride home they talked about anything but Sebastian. The movie (what Kurt could remember of it), Kurt’s hectic glee club practice schedule, the relative merits of Ryans Gosling and Reynolds. By the time they arrived back at Kurt’s house everything was easy again, and George seemed to have completely recovered from any distress brought on by telling his story. He pulled up in front of the house, got out, and waited for Kurt to come around to his side of the car.

“Well, thank you,” Kurt began awkwardly, “I had a really good time.”

George snagged his hand and pulled him closer to where he was leaning against the car door. “Text me about the party, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

Kurt nodded, and George tugged a little more, and then they were kissing, soft and gentle, Kurt’s arm stealing around George’s trim waist and George’s tongue teasing just a little at Kurt’s bottom lip. When they broke apart all Kurt could see were warm blue eyes under curling blonde hair.

His euphoria lasted all the way up to his room, where he peeked out the window and waved to George, who had stayed by the car just for that apparently. Everything was perfect. He really liked George, and they were going to the Warbler party together, and, really, he had no reason not to be perfectly happy.

But that night his dreams were haunted by a sharp, mocking laugh and challenging green eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

If there was one thing Kurt could say for sure about a Warbler party, it was that it was certainly different from a New Directions party. For one thing, the crowd was not nearly as rowdy, unless you counted the various McKinley kids who were doing their best to fulfill every possible public school stereotype that the Dalton students might be harboring. The music was definitely better; Kurt had already heard two songs that were fantastic and completely unfamiliar to him. And all signs pointed to it being much more gay-friendly ("signs" being David's friends Nick and Jeff making out furiously on the couch, so intertwined that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began). Watching the McKinley kids, most of whom had never seen two guys kissing before, react to them was almost entertaining enough to make Kurt forget that George hadn't shown up yet. Almost.

He'd texted earlier that day that he needed to change the plan and would meet Kurt at the party instead of picking him up. Kurt had debated for hours whether it made more sense to drive himself, so he wouldn't be tied to anyone else's schedule, or to catch a ride with someone so that he'd be free to leave with George, if that happened. Eventually, he’d asked Tina if he could ride with her (he wasn’t getting in the middle of a Finn/Rachel thing again and Mike was coming from work so he was meeting Tina there) and so he felt perfectly justified sipping the concoction that Puck had shoved into his hand shortly after their arrival. A little liquid courage couldn’t hurt, right?

But there he stood, staring out the window, and although cars pulled up fairly regularly none of them seemed to contain the boy he was looking for.

It was all Sebastian’s fault. Not directly of course, even Kurt could admit that, but if George had had a last minute change of heart (and who could blame him, Kurt insisted to the part of his brain that was trying to be mad at George, given what Sebastian had done to him?) it was clearly because he wasn’t comfortable with the probability of running into the lead Warbler again. Kurt glared across the room at the corner where Sebastian, clearly much more in his element than he’d been at Sugar’s party, was holding court in the midst of a good-sized circle of Dalton boys who were hanging on his every word. Sheep, Kurt thought to himself with a little sniff. Just because he could sing and he was hot, everyone just fell all over themselves to kiss his ass. And if any one of them knew Sebastian’s true colors, well, Kurt suspected they wouldn’t be quite so eager to fawn over him.

He turned back the window with a sigh. Eventually he was going to have to admit that George wasn’t coming. And much as he wanted to just stand here and keep hoping, the sound of David’s friends on the couch indulging in activities that would almost certainly be off the table for Kurt tonight was really too much to bear. He fervently wished he’d driven his own car, because he’d really like to just leave. But Tina was somewhere wrapped around Mike, no doubt, and everyone had someone and he was doomed to just stand here all alone all night.

“Oh my God! Don’t turn around!” came a very excited voice from behind him. “I’m trying to figure out whether that shirt is Tom Ford or Ralph Lauren just from the back.”

“O-kay,” Kurt kept his eyes on the window and his back to whoever had spoken.

After a few moments there was a long defeated sigh and, “Okay, you can turn around. I can’t do it.”

He turned to find a short, eager-looking boy in oversized glasses standing very close to him and staring at his shirt like he was trying to memorize the details.

“Go ahead, tell me! I hate it when I get stumped like this!”

Kurt smiled tentatively. “It’s Hugo Boss,” he said.

The boy’s eyes opened wide as saucers and he smacked himself in the forehead dramatically. “Hugo Boss! I should have known! The collar should have been a dead giveaway.” He held out his hand to Kurt. “But where are my manners?! I’m Chandler. Chandler Kiel.”

Kurt offered his own hand and let Chandler shake it vigorously. “Kurt Hummel,” he said.

“I am shocked to find anyone here with an actual sense of style. Honestly, that shirt is perfection. You’d think at least a few of these trust fund babies would know how to dress, but I guess wearing a uniform all day must stunt your sense of style or something.”

“So you don’t go to Dalton?” Kurt asked.

“Oh, God no!” Chandler finally let Kurt have his hand back. “I’m a friend of Jeff’s. He’s the blonde half of the two-headed monster on the couch. What about you?”

“McKinley High. I’m only here because my friend is dating one of them. And our glee club is worried that their glee club is trying to steal our secrets so . . .”

“You sing?!” Chandler’s excitement ratcheted up several notches. “Oh my God! I sing too! I mean, we don’t have a glee club at my school but I’m applying for several programs in New York right now. I am NOT spending the rest of my life in Ohio, I can tell you that!”

Kurt smiled, because loud as he was, Chandler’s excitement was kind of infectious. “I’m applying to NYADA,” he said.

Chandler practically squealed. “So we’ll be neighbors next year! Oh, we should absolutely get together and share audition secrets or something. I know I could use some fashion tips from someone with your obvious sense of style.”

Kurt was a little taken aback by this. Having to worry about the protocol of giving his number to one guy while he was sort-of-maybe dating another was a problem he'd never expected to encounter. At least not before he got to New York.

"Um, well, I'm sort of seeing someone right now . . ."

Chandler's face dropped from hopeful to dejected so quickly it was almost comical.

"It's just really new, you know? And I don't want to screw it up so I probably shouldn't..."

Chandler nodded furiously. "I get it. Of course. I'd do the same thing if it was me. Just, well, Jeff knows my number. You know. In case it doesn't work out." He slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. "Not that I'm hoping it doesn't work out! I mean, I want you to...oh God. I'm losing it, aren't I? I tend to do that."

Kurt smiled at him. "No. I get it. It's flattering, really."

"Okay, well, maybe I'll see you around?" Chandler held out his hand again and Kurt shook it, feeling a little weird at all this formality.

“Sure,” he said, and Chandler gave him his hand back, did a sort of funny little salute, and took his leave, heading into the next room. Watching him disappear took Kurt’s eyes right back to Sebastian in his corner, reigning over his little kingdom of admirers. Sebastian who happened to be looking right at him. Crap.

Even from across the room in the dim party light, Kurt could see one eyebrow lift in the direction of Chandler’s retreating back. Sebastian made a comment to his gaggle of groupies, then pushed past them and sauntered casually toward Kurt, never taking his eyes off him.

Shit. What the hell did he want now? Kurt half-turned back toward the window, praying that he’d see George making his way up the walk. Instead, all he saw was Sebastian’s reflection getting closer and closer.

“I’m surprised your little fan club didn’t follow you over here,” he said without really turning away from the window. “Isn’t that what you pay them for?”

“Ouch,” Sebastian said calmly. Kurt could see from his reflection that he was also looking out the window, eyes flicking up and down the street in front of the house.

“Well go ahead then,” Kurt said.

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian’s voice was completely neutral, and for some reason that irritated Kurt no end.

He turned his head toward Sebastian; trying to see the street and Sebastian’s face in the glass at the same time was making him a little dizzy. “I’m sure you came over here to make some comment about me managing to find someone even more flaming than myself to talk to. So just get it over with then we can both go back to what we were doing.”

Sebastian smirked over the rim of his glass as he took a long sip of some amber liquid. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he commented, a small hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

“Really? So why are you talking to me?”

Sebastian leaned in closer. “I was going to compliment your wardrobe.”

“My wardrobe?” Kurt asked skeptically.

“Well, I can honestly say I never expected to see Kurt Hummel wearing fuck-me jeans.”

“What?!” Kurt turned completely away from the window to face Sebastian, glancing around the room to make sure no one else had heard.

Sebastian took another sip of his drink and let his eyes roam down Kurt’s body, lingering long enough at his crotch that Kurt actually started to blush. “Ooh, I stand corrected. Those are clearly I’ll-fuck-you jeans.”

“Oh my God!” Kurt gasped. “What is wrong with you?”

“Well now you’re starting to confuse me,” Sebastian said patronizingly. “You don’t seem to like it when I imply that you’re a girl, but then when I notice your surprisingly impressive package, you freak out. How am I supposed to know what you really want from me?”

He had to be drunk, Kurt thought. He couldn’t fathom any other reason why Sebastian would be talking to him this way. “How about you just stop commenting on me at all? I didn’t ask your opinion.”

Sebastian clicked his tongue in a tsk-tsk sound that would have been comical coming from anyone else. “Oh, no. No, you don’t get to play the ice queen now. You wore those pants specifically to show off your dick and that perky little ass. You can’t act all injured just because the person who noticed them isn’t the one you wanted to notice them.”

He was definitely drunk. “Well it looks like he isn’t coming so maybe you could give me a break and go find someone else to torture.”

A weird intensity filled Sebastian’s eyes, and he glanced out the window and back to Kurt before he said, “Shame. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Fuck-me jeans look pretty good on you.”

“I’ll-fuck-you jeans, remember?” Kurt said without thinking. And where the hell did that come from? He looked down into the glass Puck had given him. It must have been the drink.

“You know where they’d look even better?” Sebastian asked.

“I can’t imagine.”

“On the floor next to one of those beds upstairs.”

It had to have been the drink. Because instead of flinging it in Sebastian’s face or storming off in a huff, Kurt found himself laughing, sharp and loud, the kind of laugh you’d hear out of Lauren Zizes on the rare occasion someone genuinely surprised her. And then for some reason Sebastian was laughing too, like he couldn’t help himself in the face of Kurt’s mirth.

“Oh my God, do lines like that actually work for you?” he couldn’t help asking.

“More often than you’d think,” Sebastian admitted, and Kurt could see something that looked like challenge in his eyes. The same challenge he’d seen before when they’d sparred like this.

“Well, apparently not often enough, if you’re desperate enough to use them on me,” he said.

For just a moment Sebastian’s eyes seemed to darken and he took half a step closer to Kurt, close enough that Kurt had a brief, wild feeling that he was about to be kissed. Sebastian was still for just a moment, then some new emotion took over his face, something Kurt couldn’t read at all, and he shook his head the tiniest bit.

“Oh, I’m never desperate,” he said, and the swagger Kurt had seen before when he was surrounded by his fan club came back full force. “I can have anyone I want.” And he turned back towards the room, as if Kurt didn’t even exist any more, and cut a swath through the milling crowd as he moved away, causing heads to turn in his direction as if they’d been choreographed just to prove his point.                        

* * *

Sebastian could feel Kurt's eyes trained on the back of his head as he walked away, and he grinned and rolled his hips just that little bit harder in response as he strode confidently back across the room. He had to give David credit where credit was due; this party was shaping up to be a hell of a lot better than he had anticipated, and the night was still young, so to speak.

Then again, Sebastian mused as he reached the group of Dalton boys he had been chatting with earlier and easily integrated himself back into their fold, his expectations had been pretty much through the floor a couple of hours ago, so it was hardly surprising. In fact, up until dinnertime he had been fully intending on not even turning up, puppy dog eyes from David be damned. After Kurt's little revelation the weekend before about a certain somebody being brought as a plus-one, Sebastian had decided that there was nothing on this earth that would possibly convince him to attend. He just couldn't be in the same room as George for an entire night, not at a Dalton-hosted party of all places, he justcouldn't _._

But then he had gone down to the main hall for supper, and had sat and laughed and joked with his friends, and he had realized that Dalton was _his_ turf now. It was _his_ school, and these were _his_ friends, and if he was going let an ex-boyfriend send him running then he needed to do some serious re-evaluating of his personality, because this Sebastian Smythe didn't run from anything. He wasn't that boy any more.

Accepting a replacement drink from Matthew (when on earth had his last glass gotten so empty?) Sebastian threw a cocky smirk over towards the window where Kurt was standing, just in case the other boy was still watching him. He was. Sebastian watched with satisfaction as the color rose in Kurt's cheeks and he quickly turned back to looking out of the window. He really was adorable.

Sebastian had clocked onto Kurt as soon as he entered the party. Really, he had been impossible to miss in those 'fuck-me' jeans (' _I'll-fuck-you'_ his brain helpfully corrected, and didn't that just bring up a whole host of inappropriate mental imagery). It was absolutely crazy; everything in the universe was telling Sebastian that he should just forget about Kurt – he wasn't Sebastian's type, he was too innocent despite his blithe comebacks, Sebastian would break him, they had gotten off to the world's worst start, he was sort of dating Sebastian's ex for fucks sake! - and yet for the past hour his attention had constantly gravitated back towards the boy with azure eyes and the most fuck-worthy ass known to man. He kept telling himself that it was just because Kurt had spent the whole party waiting by the window - waiting for George - and while Sebastian didn't care about Kurt one way or another, surely he had some sort of moral obligation to make sure George didn't screw anyone else over? In any case, if he kept telling himself that, maybe it would become reality, because it certainly couldn't be that he found Kurt Hummel as captivating as his constant attention might lead one to believe.

With that as his ever-present mantra he had been perfectly content to observe from afar, but then that pint-sized porcupine had started flirting with Kurt, and before Sebastian had even known what he was doing on his feet had started taking him over to the window. About halfway across the room his brain had formulated the foolproof plan that Kurt Hummel should be his conquest for the night. After all, it was the good, _decent_ thing to do, getting him away from George like that, and if Sebastian got sex out of it in the process, then so much the better.

And _fuck_ had their interaction been fun. Sebastian found himself not even caring that Kurt had rejected him (he had the whole night to change his mind after all); it had been so long since he had found somebody willing to spar like that, and Kurt certainly knew how to bring his A-game.

Sebastian sipped his drink and turned back to the conversation in front of him, laughing in all the right places as some nameless sophomore told a joke about Mr. Pratmore from the English department, silently forming his next plan of attack.

* * *

A drink or six later found Sebastian propping up David in the corner as his friend waxed lyrical about Saint-Mercedes-The-Perfect. Again. They had already gone through two rounds of _“She's so incredible,_ ” an interlude of _“I think I want to marry her”_ (at which Sebastian had to bite his tongue so hard he was pretty sure he drew blood. Seriously, talk about moving fast!) and now Sebastian was nodding along as David told him in detail exactly how attractive he found his new girlfriend.

“I mean, she's just, she's just _stunning_ , don't you think Sebby?” David slurred slightly as he smiled bashfully up at Sebastian, waving a drunken hand in the direction of the dance floor where Mercedes was currently dancing with a large group of New Directions kids.

“Yes, she is very a beautiful lady,” Sebastian agreed amiably, trying not to laugh at his friend as he struggled to remain upright.

“She's more than beautiful, Seb, don't you just want to go over there and rip her clothes-”

“Whoa there, Romeo,” Sebastian interrupted with a laugh, “I think you've got the wrong audience here.” When David simply looked at Sebastian with a bemused expression on his face Sebastian gave a soft sigh, “Okay buddy, I think it's time to get you some water.”

Sebastian surveyed the room hurriedly, groaning when he saw that the only available seat was on the sofa next to Jeff and Nick, who apparently hadn't moved all night. He felt a bit bad interrupting - after all it was so rare that they went to parties where his friends were able to be affectionate with each other – but it seemed there was nothing else to be done as David started to feel progressively more like dead weight on his shoulder. With no small amount of prodding and poking he guided his friend over to the sofa, slapping Jeff purposefully on the shoulder as he lowered David down onto the seat. “Look after him will you? I'm just going to get him some water.” Jeff waved his arm in what Sebastian hoped was acceptance (what with him still being lip-locked at the time it was hard to tell) and with a swift pat to David's knee Sebastian started to make his way towards the kitchen.

On his way back across the room he couldn't help scouting out Kurt, who was _still_ standing by the window. It had been at least forty-five minutes since Sebastian had last approached him, and maybe now was the perfect time for Sebastian to try a few more moves. After all, it just wasn't right that such talent should be wasted standing by a window, waiting for George of all people. He quickly made his way back toward David, thrusting the glass of water into his friend's hands with firm instructions to drink, before spinning around to walk over toward Kurt for the second time that night, making sure his swagger was firmly in place as he did so.

“Tell me you haven't spent the entire night sitting over here waiting for Prince Charming, Princess, it's such a waste.” Sebastian made sure to lace his voice with as much charm as possible, his trademark smirk firmly in place as Kurt gave a put-upon sigh and slowly twisted away from the window to face Sebastian.

“And here I was thinking I'd gotten rid of you for the night. What do you want this time Sebastian?” Kurt's expression was drawn, as if he had been mentally worn down by a night of hoping, waiting, and invariably being let down. Sebastian could relate.

Sebastian raised his hands in protest, his eyes wide and innocent. “Alright, Princess, no need to get snippy with me because your boyfriend left you hanging. I was just trying to pay you a simple compliment, that's all.”

Kurt snorted, one eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “And what sort of twisted compliment might that be Sebastian? No, go on, tell me. I could do with another laugh right about now.”

“I was just going to say that it's a waste you standing here all night waiting for some jerk when you could have any guy in this room with a swing of your ass. Now that's a pretty decent compliment if you ask me.” In all honesty Sebastian hadn't quite intended to come out with something quite so sycophantic; the six vodka-based concoctions mixed up by Dalton's self-proclaimed mixologist had obviously gone straight to his head. Still, there was no going back now, he might as well roll with it.

“Only you could play up your own compliments, Sebastian.” Kurt sighed in the same world-weary tone, though some of the light that had been present during their last interaction had returned to his eyes, and he stood a little straighter as he took a long sip from the glass clenched in his hand. “That's a pretty bold statement you've got going there.”

Sebastian smirked, “Hey, Dalton's not a gay school but we're pretty damn close. And you, sweetheart, are basically gay catnip.”

Kurt frowned, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room appraisingly, chewing his lip as he clearly pondered his options. Finally he pointed a slender finger at a tall, blonde boy furiously making out with his girlfriend up against a wall in the corner. “Really, you think I could get him if I wanted?”

Sebastian laughed, loving the fact that Kurt was getting drawn into their verbal tête-à-tête. “I think he'd be persuadable. You've certainly got better hair than she does in any case. Seriously, the girl needs to be told that bigger isn't always better.”

“Is that what you tell the poor, misguided fools you trick into coming home with you?” Kurt hit back instantly, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian as if daring him to challenge his statement, before continuing on without giving Sebastian a chance to defend himself. “Alright, how about David then? Don't try telling me he's of the 'persuadable' variety.”

Sebastian gave a small shrug. “Oh, our Dave's surprisingly liberal. If you can get Mercedes on board with the idea then I'm sure he'd be up for a Devil's threesome.”

Kurt gave a small shudder at Sebastian's words and shook his head violently. “Thank you for that frankly traumatizing mental image, I'll add that to the list of things to hold against you. But more to the point, you said before it was you who could have anybody in this room, so where does that leave me?”

Sebastian cocked his head as if considering Kurt's words. “Hmm, you make a good point Princess. Tell you what, I'll agree to go halves with you, as long as you agree I get first pick.”

Kurt laughed a bright, honest laugh that made something twist uncomfortably in Sebastian's chest. This was Kurt genuinely enjoying himself, clearly relishing the challenge of their interactions just as much as Sebastian was, and it was somewhat grounding to know that he wasn't the only one who felt like this, like he needed this sort of verbal back-and-forth to survive. Fuck, he must have had way more to drink than he had realized. Definitely time to get back on track.

Leaning forwards so that he was just inside of Kurt's personal space without crowding the other boy, he lowered his voice and whispered silkily “Or, you know, we could just ditch everyone else and go have some fun on our own.”

He heard Kurt's breath catch in his throat, and watched with satisfaction as Kurt's pupils dilated and he unconsciously licked his lips. Full, plump lips that Sebastian wanted nothing more than to suck into his mouth and taste. He didn't move an inch though, simply waiting. After a long moment Kurt dropped his gaze to the ground, shaking his head vigorously as if to dislodge any thoughts currently running around in his brain, and when he looked back up his stare was hard, determined. “As…tempting…as that offer is,” he began in a voice that was dripping with sarcasm. “I think I'd rather try my luck with the straight guy. Points for effort though. Better luck next time, _Princess_.”

Sebastian could only watch, mouth slightly agape, as with that final remark Kurt patted Sebastian patronizingly on the shoulder, before spinning around and sauntering over towards the dance floor, his movements an exact mirror of Sebastian's previous exit, complete with head-turns from all angles.

* * *

This might just be, Kurt thought as he navigated aimlessly across the room, the strangest night of his life so far.

His head was spinning and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the drink Puck had given him or because of the way Sebastian’s eyes had connected with his just before he’d pulled himself together enough to remember who he was flirting with and make his escape. Because it didn’t matter. He was Kurt Hummel and there was no way he could be won over with a few shallow compliments and loaded glances. Not when he knew what Sebastian was - everything he was. Everything he’d done to George. George who had every right to want to avoid the party tonight, Kurt insisted to the tiny part of his brain that had been whispering “coward” for the past hour.

He just wished he could figure it out. Who was this boy who could do something as heinous as what he’d done to George, but then go out of his way to help settle his drunken friend? The boy who all but called Kurt a girl with the same look of - anticipation? excitement? - that he wore when he complimented Kurt’s dick?

But it didn’t matter, he told himself firmly. It didn’t matter if Sebastian was a teen gay wet dream, the devil incarnate, or just a dressed-up version of Dave Karofsky who was too ashamed to admit what he really wanted without the fortification of alcohol. Sebastian was not his problem. His problem was finding Tina and getting the hell away from this party before his life had a chance to get any weirder.

“Boo! Come dance with me!” A hand grabbed his arm from behind and he was spun around to face Mercedes, who seemed like she was a few sheets into the wind herself. She beamed a dazzling smile at him. “I need you!” she hollered over the beat of the music. “I think David passed out on the couch and I am so not done dancing yet!”

“No, honey,” Kurt protested, “I just want to go home, really.”

“Fat chance! Tina and Mike disappeared upstairs half an hour ago so you might as well give up and come have some fun. Just because your boy didn’t show is no reason not to have a good time.” She pulled him close and spoke directly in his ear. “Besides, what better way to show you-know-who that you don’t care what he thinks than to rock out with your friends?”

Kurt gaped at her for just a moment, wondering how much she knew, but then realized she must have seen them talking and assumed it was just another of their usual sparring matches.  And at that exact moment the song changed to one that Kurt loved, which seemed like enough of a sign that he flashed Mercedes a grin, drained his cup in one long gulp (to Mercedes’ enthusiastic whooping) and deposited it on a passing table as she dragged him out into the press of gyrating bodies.

To hell with everything, he thought. The alcohol was buzzing through his body and his heartbeat was synchronizing with the bass of the music and he just let go. He was sick and tired of second-guessing and hoping for things that weren’t going to happen or fearing things that might. He was especially sick and tired of pretending to himself that he wasn’t imagining how a certain long, lean body would feel pressed up against his own. Mercedes was laughing out loud and he realized his own voice was joining with hers as they spun around each other in the mad crush of the dance floor.

They laughed and danced their way through two more songs, until the buzz of the alcohol was making him feel a little hollow-legged and definitely more graceful than he probably was, and then suddenly, as the third song trailed off, Mercedes’ eyes focused with astonishment on something behind him. Before he could turn around an arm slipped around his waist and pulled him back against the body to which it was attached.

“You came!” he exclaimed, and he let himself sink back into George’s embrace as excitement tingled through his body.

“Not yet, actually, but I’m thinking it’s a distinct possibility,” said a voice that was definitely not George’s in his ear.

Of course. The body was all wrong, much too tall, and the voice in his ear came from the wrong angle. Kurt spun around in Sebastian’s arms and shoved him away hard.

“What the hell, Sebastian?!”

Kurt’s shove had knocked him off balance, but Sebastian recovered quickly and was right back, arm snaking around Kurt’s waist again as the strains of a new song filled the room. “Relax,” he all but commanded. “It’s just a dance. Nothing to get worked up about.”

“I’m dancing with Mercedes,” Kurt retorted, but he didn’t try to move away again. He was apparently just drunk enough that the fact that Sebastian Smythe wanted to touch him - Kurt, and not anyone else at this party, Kurt and not the hot lacrosse player who always seemed so desperate for Sebastian’s attention - was somehow short-circuiting every molecule of common sense in his body.

Sebastian just grinned at him, swaying his hips at half-tempo to the music. “Not any more you’re not,” he said, and sure enough, when Kurt looked around Mercedes was nowhere to be seen. “You might as well give in, babe. Who else are you going to dance with?”

And then they _were_ dancing, still half-time, turning the mid-tempo Oasis song into a slow dance. Kurt’s hips were grinding in time with Sebastian’s and although the only place they were touching was Sebastian’s hand on Kurt’s waist, it was getting harder to remember exactly why that was. And why he shouldn’t be giving Sebastian his best under-the-eyelashes flirty look when he asked, “But aren’t you the guy who said I could have any boy here?”

Sebastian’s hand moved at last, but only to stroke up and down Kurt’s spine and send sparks shooting out in all directions. “Yeah, about that,” he said silkily, “I may have overstated the bi-curiosity of my straight friends. And as for the gay ones, well, Nick and Jeff haven’t taken their lips off each other all night, and Trent is a total sweetheart, but he’s really not your type.”

“Oh, and you know what my type is?” If the tone of Kurt’s own voice wasn’t enough to let him know that he’d crossed some line from fun flirting to the serious intent kind, the darkening of Sebastian’s eyes was an unmistakable sign.

“I think I do,” was all he said.

And at that moment the hot lacrosse player, who Kurt was surprise to realize hadn’t actually been hanging on Sebastian’s coat-tails all night, wandered into the room and he couldn’t help nodding his head at him. “Well what about that guy? He could be my type.”

Sebastian tossed a brief glance over his shoulder but was quick to bring his focus back to Kurt. “Matthew? No way. You don’t want to go there.”

“Why not? He’s cute, built . . .”

“He’s also an insufferable snob,” Sebastian said almost bitterly, “and that’s coming from me.” His free hand reached for Kurt’s. “Look, just dance with me, okay?”

“Why should I?” Kurt asked, even as he let Sebastian intertwine their fingers.

Kurt was still flirting, but Sebastian’s response was more quietly intense than Kurt had ever seen him. “Because I asked you to. Because this is an awesome song. Because we’re at a party where we _can_. Whatever works for you.”

_Step outside ‘cause summertime’s in bloom_

_Stand up beside the fireplace_

_Take that look from off your face_

_‘Cause you ain’t ever gonna burn my heart out . . ._

The music was flowing through Kurt’s body like the alcohol and Sebastian’s fingers tangled with his and traced up and down his spine and he found that he just didn’t want to fight it any more. He didn’t want to deny that green eyes and broad shoulders had been haunting his dreams. He didn’t care that he hadn’t figured out what Sebastian’s game was, or how he could say such offensive things while looking at Kurt like he mattered so much. He only cared that the hottest guy in the room, the one who actually _could_ have any gay guy and half the straight ones at the party tonight, was staring at him, holding him and coaxing him closer.

_Take me to the place where you go_

_Where nobody knows_

_If it’s night or day . . ._

And Kurt just let go. If he couldn’t throw caution to the wind when he was seventeen and dancing with a gorgeous guy who couldn’t seem to keep his hands of him, then when could he? He gave himself over to the music and the movement of Sebastian’s hips, and his free hand moved with a will of its own to slide over a muscled shoulder and upward until his fingers curled into the short hair at the nape of Sebastian’s neck. They were dancing, effortlessly, moving together to the oddly sensuous beat and Kurt was sure that people around them moved back a bit, slowed their own dancing just to watch.

Sebastian’s eyes bored into his and his lips were almost close enough to touch Kurt’s ear when he spoke. “There you go,” he said, pulling Kurt a little closer. “I knew that ass had to be good for something besides looking pretty.”

That was probably offensive, Kurt thought, but he’d decided to stop being offended by Sebastian. At least for tonight. “You know,” he snarked right back, “this would work a lot better for me if you would just not talk.”

“If you want me to stop talking you’re going to have to make me,” Sebastian purred as they rocked together. “And I have a very expensive private school education. In two languages. I could probably go on for hours and never repeat myself. _Maître corbeau sur un arbre perchée...”_

Kurt had to kiss him. Because if he let Sebastian go on in French he was going to do much, much worse.

_And so Sally can wait_

_She knows it’s too late as we’re walking on by . . ._

Their lips met gently - Kurt was still tentative about these things even with alcohol and music egging him on - but the gentleness itself seemed to make his body sing more than it ever had for anyone else he’d kissed. Sebastian’s lips were warm and soft and his hands tightened on Kurt’s body, whether in surprise or arousal Kurt didn’t know, he just knew he didn’t want them to let go. Their mouths moved together as if they’d been waiting years for the chance to meet and meant to savor every moment. Kurt found himself whining a tiny denial when Sebastian pulled back much too soon to stare at Kurt with eyes full of emotion and Kurt barely had time to process the strength of Sebastian’s reaction before he was pulled back, hard against Sebastian’s body and God, yes, this was exactly where he wanted to be and what he’d dreamt of so many more times than he was willing to admit to himself. Pressed against that long, long body, Sebastian’s hands insistent at the small of his back and his lips demanding, opening against Kurt’s so that his tongue could tease Kurt’s mouth open too.

Somewhere in the back of his head a tiny part of Kurt wondered how his friends were reacting to the spectacle they must be making in the middle of the dance floor, but he found that honestly, he didn’t much care. So they’d never seen him with a hot guy’s hands on his body and tongue in his mouth. Maybe it was about time they did. Maybe it was about time he stopped worrying about what everyone would think of him and just did what felt good. And Sebastian’s tongue felt good. It felt freaking fantastic. Kurt never wanted it to stop.

_But don’t look back in anger_

_Don’t look back in anger_

_At least not today . . ._

And then Sebastian’s lips were at his ear again, whispering over the dying strains of the song. “Want to get out of here?”

And this time Kurt was completely unsurprised to find that the answer was an unequivocal, “Yes.”

* * *

As much as he was loathe to admit it, a small part of Sebastian was genuinely surprised by Kurt's response. Sure, he was obviously interested - those pants really did leave nothing to the imagination - but Sebastian really wouldn't have put it past Kurt to turn on the bedroom eyes, grind his hips in all the right places, make all the right noises, and then turn around and simply leave Sebastian hanging. It just seemed like the sort of thing Kurt would do because, really, it was exactly what Sebastian would have done if their roles had been reversed.

So, as soon as that breathless “Yes,” left Kurt's mouth, Sebastian didn't think twice about squeezing the hand still clasped in his just that little bit tighter and nudging Kurt gently but purposefully towards the stairs. He wasn't the type to look a gift-horse in the mouth, and he wanted to get this beautiful, intoxicating boy naked and writhing underneath him as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, the sentiment turned out to be easier said than done, since Kurt and Sebastian were clearly not the first couple to hook up during the course of the night, and definitely weren't the only ones to make good use of David's many-roomed upstairs. It took three locked doors and a truly mortifying moment of walking in on Jeff and Nick mid-act before the two boys stumbled into a darkened, thankfully empty, room at the end of the corridor.

Sebastian's hand hadn't left the small of Kurt's back since they left the dance floor, and as soon as the door slammed shut behind them he slid his arm around to encircle Kurt's waist, drawing the other boy in closer so that they were pressed together, the long line of Kurt's back flush against Sebastian's chest. As if on instinct Kurt rolled his hips against Sebastian's crotch, bringing one arm up to slide around Sebastian's neck, a soft pressure in his fingertips drawing Sebastian's head down to the soft skin of Kurt's neck. Sebastian willingly dipped his head, pressing hot, wet kisses in a long line from jaw to collarbone, smiling in satisfaction as he felt Kurt shiver underneath his touch.

“For a minute there I thought we were just going to have to do this right there in the corridor,” he muttered between kisses, and he could feel the rumble of laughter that was Kurt's response vibrating against his chest.

“Into exhibitionism are we?” Kurt questioned teasingly as he spun around so that they were face to face, tipping his head up ever so slightly so that he could nibble gently at Sebastian's neck.

“With you? Definitely. It would be doing the world a disservice not to show off how hot we clearly are together.” He could see a flicker of _something_ – arousal, appreciation, apprehension? - in Kurt's eyes at his words, and if it was the last one well, that was something that needed to be dealt with before this went any further. Sliding his hand down the small of Kurt's back he gave his ass a light squeeze, drawing the boy even closer to him as he pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to Kurt's lips.

“Are you- Do you- You definitely want to do this, right?” It felt weird, the hesitancy in his voice when his whole body was screaming at him not to question what was happening, to just take and enjoy and be the Sebastian who fucked strangers in Scandals without thinking twice about it. But Kurt wasn't a stranger in a seedy nightclub, clearly only out for a quick hookup. There was no questioning the fact that Kurt was willing and eager right now, but he had been drinking, they _both_ had been drinking, and Sebastian didn't want to wake up tomorrow not knowing whether he had taken advantage. He wasn't that sort of person, he _couldn't_ be that sort of person.

Kurt nodded adamantly. “Yes, God yes.” He stood up on tiptoes to press another kiss to Sebastian's lips, a physical confirmation as well as a verbal one. When he drew away though there was still a slight crease in his brow, a small frown that Sebastian was just desperate to kiss away. “Except, I don’t want to do…everything. But definitely…something? But nothing in public.”

Sebastian grinned at Kurt’s fumbling. He had no idea why he found it so hot, but he knew his expression was wolfish as he drew the other boy closer, nuzzling along Kurt's collarbone as he spoke. “Duly noted. Besides, tonight I want to see how quickly I can make you scream my name, and I can't have you getting stage fright now can I?”

He was going to say something else, he was sure of it, but then Kurt's slender fingers reached up to cup at his cock through his jeans, and all thoughts of words or sentences fled from his mind as he felt Kurt's lips brush against his ear. “I bet I can make you scream first. And honey? Kurt Hummel never gets stage fright.”

Sebastian couldn't help moaning at the sentiment, and with an almost feral growl he allowed instinct to take over, flipping them so that Kurt was pressed with his back up against the door, and he crowded forward to claim Kurt's lips in a deep, desperate kiss. Sebastian felt Kurt's breath catch on his lips, and for the shortest of pauses the other boy was completely motionless before he responded with equal amounts of force, fingers tightening in Sebastian's hair and drawing him impossibly closer.

It was completely different from the kissing on the dance floor.  Whereas before had been all gentleness, and tentative exploration, now their interactions were fused with passion, heat, and just a pinch of desperation. It was as if both of them knew that what they were doing was, for all intents and purposes, absolutely crazy, and once it was all over there would be some hard questions to answer about motives, and reasons, and feelings, so right now, in the moment, the two boys simply allowed themselves to get lost in the _wantneednow_ of the other person.

Sebastian let his hands wander, running up and down Kurt's sides and hooking into the belt loops of the other boy's jeans as he pulled his hips closer. Kurt whined and bucked up into Sebastian, and Sebastian couldn't help the moan that escaped from his lips as hot spikes of pleasure were sent rushing through him. Breaking away breathlessly Sebastian sank to his knees, placing his left hand flat on Kurt's chest above his head as his right hand started to undo the buttons of Kurt's jeans. He could feel Kurt's chest rising and falling harshly as the other boy struggled to catch his breath, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths of his own as he worked.

When all the buttons were undone he brought his free hand to help tug the denim material down so that it pooled around Kurt's ankles. Sebastian moaned and licked his lips appreciatively as he took in the line of Kurt's cock prominent against his tight black briefs, but as much as he so wanted to surge forwards, to take Kurt in his mouth and make the other boy scream like he'd promised he would, he couldn't. Not just yet. Hands still on Kurt's hips he tilted his head upwards so that he could lock eyes with Kurt, who was staring down at him with pupils completely blown with lust, and an expression that made it very clear that Kurt didn't understand why Sebastian wasn't progressing any further. But he had to ask; he had to be sure.

“Can-” Sebastian paused and coughed as his voice came out deep and scratchy. “Can I blow you, Kurt?”

Kurt nodded his head violently. “Yes, yes please _yes,_ ” he gasped, and Sebastian couldn't help the smirk that crept across his face at Kurt's eagerness. With a quick tug at the waistband, Kurt's briefs joined his jeans around his ankles, his hard cock bobbing free to stand swaying slightly mere centimeters from Sebastian's face. Sebastian took half a second to appreciate its obvious length and girth, before closing the tiny gap between himself and Kurt to swipe a long, hot trail across Kurt's cock, his fingertips pressing tightly into Kurt's hips as he did so.

“Uuuuh,” Kurt moaned incoherently as his fingers clenched and unclenched at his side, as if desperate to move but unsure of whether that was allowed. Sebastian leaned back for a second to admire the stunning boy above him, grinning slightly as he saw that Kurt had slammed his eyes shut in response to the sensation overload. He licked his lips once more before moving back in to take just the tip of Kurt's cock into his mouth, suckling gently around the ridge of his head. He felt Kurt's hand come up to lie tentatively on Sebastian's shoulder in response, just at the juncture of his neck with his fingertips flexing as Sebastian's sucked. Sebastian pulled off with a lewd pop, wiping his spit-slick lips with the back of his hand as he tilted his head upwards to look at Kurt.

“You can do it, you know. Grab hold. I've been told my hair is just the right length for hanging on through epic blowjobs. Just another thing that's incredible about me, of course.” To prove his point he reached up to his neck and guided Kurt's hand around to the back of his head, eyes never leaving Kurt's, and he grinned when Kurt's hand instinctively tangled in Sebastian's hair. “Relax, sweetheart, this is all about you.”

“Oh Christ, Sebastian,” Kurt whispered, his voice dripping with desire, and Sebastian took that as his cue to continue, leaning forward to take Kurt into his mouth again. He sank halfway down Kurt's length, his mouth forming a tight, wet seal as his tongue pressed flat against the underside of Kurt's cock, gently teasing the thick vein that ran along it. He felt Kurt's fingers tighten in his hair, the lightest of involuntary pressure encouraging him forward, and he happily sank down to take Kurt in his entirety into his mouth. When he felt the head of Kurt's cock nudge against the back of his mouth he relaxed his muscles, letting Kurt's thick length slip down his throat until his nose was nuzzling against the neatly-trimmed pubic hair that dusted over Kurt's lower abdomen. He held himself there for a long moment, swallowing around Kurt and feeling heat coil in his stomach when he heard Kurt gasp as his throat tensed and flexed around Kurt's cock.

When his eyes started to water and he felt himself getting slightly light-headed he slowly, oh so slowly, drew back until only the very tip was still in his mouth, taking a second to flick his eyes upwards to Kurt's face (and fuck that was a picture he never wanted to forget) before sinking back down in one swift motion. He felt Kurt buck his hips into his face, and he couldn't help grinning to himself in satisfaction as he heard Kurt keen and positively scream his name. Bingo.

He sucked and licked and used every trick he knew, and every time Kurt moaned and gasped his name Sebastian felt himself inching ever closer to his own release. It was crazy; Sebastian had never been much of a giver in the past, choosing instead to take whatever he needed from his lover, safe in the knowledge that he was more than good enough for them to enjoy themselves without him having to do too much other than what made _him_ feel good. But with Kurt above him, gasping and panting in a way that was positively sinful, Sebastian felt like he never wanted to move, like if he could carry on making Kurt make those noises then that in itself would be enough for him. He found himself making a mental list of what worked best, what made Kurt moan loudest, but when he realized that he was making this list in subconscious preparation for next time, he brutally tore it up and threw it away, forcing it out of his mind. There was no “next time”, only now. That was all there ever was for him. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy now, and after that he lost himself in the moment, in the sound of Kurt's voice and the feel of Kurt's hands on his head.

He was so lost, in fact, that when he felt Kurt tug at his hair he was initially confused. “Seb- Sebastian I'm going to, oh my god I'm going to-”

It was cute, really, that Kurt wanted to give him warning, and if anything it made Sebastian redouble his effort, bobbing just that little bit faster and bringing a hand down from Kurt's hips to cup at his balls, teasing them artfully between his long fingers. He felt Kurt's hips stutter against his face, and then hot liquid spurt across his tongue and down his throat as Kurt came with a wordless cry. Sebastian made sure to swallow every drop, closing his eyes as Kurt's hand moved down to squeeze his shoulder. Pulling back he used his tongue to clean up the last of Kurt's release, licking the last few drops from his slit and drawing one final full-body shudder from the boy.

Finally, Sebastian pulled away completely, licking his lips, and savoring the taste of Kurt on his tongue. Reaching down he pulled up Kurt's underwear and jeans together, tucking the boy away before pressing soft, chaste pecks to every part of Kurt's porcelain skin that he could find as he worked his way back up to standing. He started along his hips, rucking his shirt up so he could move across his stomach, along his abs, before breaking away for a split second so he could relocate to his collarbone, his neck, the line of his jaw, and eventually his lips. Kurt sighed contentedly and lazily opened his mouth, allowing Sebastian to share the taste of Kurt's release as they kissed.

After a moment or so of languid kissing, Sebastian broke away to raise an eyebrow questioningly at Kurt. Kurt, whose eyelids were drooping as he basked in his post-orgasm bliss. Sebastian frowned and pressed a slightly firmer, closed mouth kiss to Kurt's lips. “Don't fall asleep on me Princess, I'm expecting at least some sort of reciprocity here.”

Kurt snorted, shoving at Sebastian playfully with his shoulder. “What happened to 'this is all about you?'”

It wasn’t fair that even after a mind-blowing orgasm Kurt could still manage to be surprising. Sebastian gave him a wicked smile. “That was then, this is now. And I made it all about you, didn't I? Now it's my turn.”

At that Kurt laughed outright, grinning at Sebastian with a predatory glint in his eyes. “I should have known that you couldn't be a gentleman if your life depended on it, Smythe.”

Sebastian shrugged “Being good is boring, being bad is so much more exciting.” He saw that spark glitter behind Kurt's expressive eyes once more and he grinned to himself. _And you know exactly what I mean, Hummel, don't you. Don't act like you don't feel the same way - you're not fooling anyone._

Kurt surged forwards, pressing against Sebastian insistently and forcing him to walk backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he toppled down onto it, followed swiftly by Kurt, who pinned Sebastian with a hand on either side of his head, his nose scant inches away from Sebastian's. “Since I _am_ a gentleman, I treat my conquests to a bed. Aren't you a lucky boy?”

Sebastian's brain was short-circuiting, with Kurt pressed up against him from head to toe it was impossible to think properly. Still, he forced himself to stretch both arms up behind his head, propping himself up on them slightly as he cocked his head and pretended to consider Kurt's words. “I don't know, I guess it depends on what you're going to do to me, doesn't it.”

Kurt simply responded by bringing one hand down to deftly flick open the buttons of Sebastian's jeans, his hand snaking inside to palm at the hard mound of Sebastian's cock through his briefs. Sebastian's breath caught in his throat as Kurt's nimble fingers snaked up and over the waistband of his underwear, delving inside the fabric to wrap around the hot skin of his cock, stroking in sure, firm movements.

Sebastian gasped and balled his fists into his own hair, just the way Kurt had done before. _Fuuuck_. Kurt might look and act like a china doll at times, and really Sebastian had no idea if the boy was even a virgin (and maybe he should have checked that at some point before reaching this stage, but too late for that now) but Sebastian would happily stake the Smythe fortune on the fact that he had _definitely_ done this before. Nobody, not even Sebastian, was ever this good their first time, and _Christ_ was Kurt good - rubbing and twisting in the exact way guaranteed to make Sebastian completely lose it. It was almost as if Kurt was perfectly in tune with Sebastian's needs, knowing exactly what he needed to do in order to get him off in the most spectacular fashion. Which was a completely crazy notion, especially considering Sebastian was pretty sure Kurt didn't even _like_ him. But still.

And then all too suddenly Kurt's hand stilled, and Sebastian couldn't stop the whine of disappointment that bubbled up out of his chest, and he ground his hips furiously up against Kurt's hand in a desperate attempt to get him to continue.

“Remember what I said, I'm not going to sleep with you.”

Sebastian couldn't even begin to process why Kurt suddenly felt the need to clarify what they'd already agreed on earlier. All he cared about in that moment was Kurt's hand on his dick, and the sparks that were shooting up and down his spine as he felt his balls start to tighten. “Fine, whatever you want babe,” he gasped, not even caring how desperate he sounded.

Kurt nodded and continued in his ministrations, twisting just underneath Sebastian's head in that one spot that was just _so-damn-sensitive,_ and Sebastian allowed his head to loll back onto the pillow as he let the sensations overwhelm him. Less than a minute later, though, Kurt stopped still again and Sebastian practically growled in frustration.

“And you're not going to sleep with me either, just so we're clear.”

Sebastian threw his hands up above his head in exasperation. “Right, no penetration, got it. Seriously Kurt, I don't care how far we do or do not go, just please _don't fucking stop what you're doing_.”

This seemed to be enough for Kurt, as the next moment he was tugging at the waistband of Sebastian's jeans and briefs to give him better access to Sebastian's cock. Sebastian obligingly lifted his hips off the bed so that Kurt could fully remove the offending articles of clothing, and Sebastian barely had time to register cool air on his sensitive skin before it was replaced by the warmth of Kurt's palm. Sebastian spread his legs wider without his jeans in the way and groaned at the friction that was just the right side of intense, shutting his eyes and finally letting himself be overwhelmed by the feeling of Kurt working him over.

When Kurt ran his hand over Sebastian's slit to collect the beads of pre-cum that were forming Sebastian gasped. “Kurt, oh fuck Kurt,” he whined, bucking his hips upwards as Kurt's now-lubricated hand started to pump with increased vigor.

With every swipe of Kurt's hand Sebastian could feel himself getting closer and closer to his release. He instinctively started thrusting into Kurt's tight grip, practically chanting Kurt's name as he felt his balls tighten, the familiar heat in his abdomen start to unfurl. He thought vaguely that he should probably warn Kurt that he was about to come, but then again it was probably pretty obvious, and besides, Sebastian wasn't exactly sure he was capable of coherent speech right now. In any case, the next second his decision was taken away from him as with a deft flick of Kurt's wrist Sebastian felt his whole body lock up, hot stripes of come shooting over Kurt's hand as Sebastian came so hard he thought he might black out.

Panting hard, and desperately trying to put his brain back together after such an intense orgasm, Sebastian watched as Kurt grimaced and leaned over to grab a wad of tissues from the conveniently placed box on the bedside table next to them. He took a moment to clean his somewhat sticky palm before grabbing another set of tissues and tossing them over to Sebastian. “Look at you, making such a mess.”

Sebastian snorted. “Pretty sure that one's completely on you, babe,” he teased softly as he cleaned himself up, wincing slightly as he over-sensitive cock protested at his touch.

Kurt shrugged, grinning slightly as he lobbed his used tissues towards the bin (hitting their target perfectly, Sebastian was slightly surprised to see). “Totally worth it, what with me winning our bet and all.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at Kurt, and propped himself up on his elbows, “Excuse me sweetheart, but I definitely had you screaming my name first, or have you already forgotten the best blow job of your life?”

“If you're talking absolute values, then I guess that's true, but in terms of time-from-initiation I'm afraid I had you singing like a Warbler in about half the time.” Kurt's eyes were glittering as he talked, obviously still riding the natural high that was the winning combination of sex and snark. “I guess we'll have to clarify the terms of our competition better next time.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to retort that he would win no matter what the rules of engagement were, before his poor, abused brain finally caught up with what Kurt had actually said.

Next. Time.

Kurt was clearly assuming that this would happen again, and up until ten seconds ago Sebastian had been completely willing to go along with that assumption. Even worse, Sebastian found himself _wanting_ to go along with that assumption and no, _no_ , that was not good. He was Sebastian, king of the twenty-minute hookup. Round two just wasn't in the cards for him.

So instead of a playful tease, the next words that came out of Sebastian's mouth were ones that he discovered would haunt him for a long time to come. “Sorry sweetheart, but this was a one-time only deal. I'm sure you'll have better luck with your next boyfriend though. Remember to get him to send me a thank-you card for the vast improvements to your sex life.”

Sebastian could literally see the light drain from Kurt's eyes, his mouth forming a soft “oh” of surprise, and as soon as he said it he wished he could take the words back. Yes, he had needed to be clear with Kurt about where he stood, because there was no way they could do this again, but maybe he could have said it better, been nicer about it. There was no need to be a jackass, except for the fact that it was just what Sebastian _did_ when backed into a corner.

“Kurt, I-” he began hesitantly, not even knowing what he was going to say, but Kurt cut him off immediately.

“No you're right. This was a moment of idiocy, and I don't like making the same mistake twice.” Kurt slid off the bed, his eyes steely as he met Sebastian's gaze one final time. “Thanks for the orgasm, I guess I'll see you around.”

Sebastian silently watched as Kurt put himself back together in the mirror by the door, before leaving without so much as a backwards glance. Growling in frustration that he barely understood why he was feeling, he tucked himself back into his jeans, and then swung his legs off the bed and stood, taking a second to make sure his legs (which were feeling dangerously rubbery) would hold his weight before slowly making his own way across the room to make himself presentable again. Fixing one final out-of-place strand of hair, Sebastian sized himself up in the mirror. Eyes glittering, cocky pose, the hint of a smirk across his expressive face. There was the normal Sebastian Smythe back again; time to return to this party and forget all about this moment of weakness.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the world was determined not to let Sebastian forget. As he made his way downstairs in order to head back into the main room of the party he practically collided with Kurt at the foot of the stairs.

Kurt, who had another boy's phone in his hand. Kurt, who was throwing coy smiles at the short boy with glasses from earlier as he typed in his digits with long, lean fingers that only ten minutes earlier had been making Sebastian writhe on the bed upstairs. Kurt, who was pointedly ignoring Sebastian as he returned the phone with hands that lingered just that little bit too long when they connected with the other boy's, and whose whispered “Call me, okay,” was not quite whispered enough for Sebastian not to be able to hear every word.

Sebastian felt his heart skip in his chest at the interaction in front of him, and when he looked down in order to compose himself he found that his hands had unconsciously balled into fists. Taking a deep breath, he forced his fingers to relax, flexing them for a second as he struggled to get himself under control. He and Kurt were finished with their moment of crazy, so what did it matter to him who he chose to fuck next? Nothing, it didn't matter at all, and if Kurt chose Glasses over there then maybe he wouldn't be tempted by George any more, and that could only be a good thing right?

Rolling his neck and squaring his shoulders he forced himself to look back up, hoping that nobody had noticed his momentary lapse. Sauntering past Kurt he couldn't help smirking at the boy, who was still doing his best not to look at Sebastian. “Decided to try out some of the tricks I taught you then Hummel? Remember to stay safe kids.” Throwing a satirical salute at Glasses, who was looking thoroughly confused, his footsteps never faltered as he made his way across the room to where Matthew was leaning against the wall, sipping a beer and observing the room.

When Sebastian reached his friend he snaked an arm around Matthew's waist, drawing the other boy closer as he plucked the almost empty bottle out of his hand and placed it on the coffee table next to them. He didn't bother with small talk, there wasn't any need, as he ground his hips against Matthew's in order to make his sentiment abundantly clear. He grinned to himself slightly as he felt Matthew's breath hitch, and he didn't waste any time in tipping his head upwards to whisper in the other boy's ear. “Wanna get out of here, stud?”

And when Matthew replied instantly with an excited “Yes,” Sebastian tried so very hard not to think about how it just didn't sound as good when it wasn't coming from Kurt's lips.


	6. Chapter 6

“Wait, you’re meeting Chandler for lunch? Who’s Chandler?”

Kurt shifted his phone to the other ear and took another sip of his coffee. “He’s the guy I met at the Warbler party,” he told Mercedes for what felt like the fifth time. “I told you. The one who’s applying to New York schools.” He scanned the food court but couldn’t see Chandler anywhere. They’d planned to meet at noon, and it was only 11:55, but Kurt liked punctuality.

“Okay, you need to run this by me one more time,” Mercedes said in his ear, “because I still don’t understand how you get from going upstairs with Sebastian to having lunch with Jiminy Cricket.”

“See, you do remember him. And don’t call him that,” he admonished her even if he couldn’t help admitting that the comparison was pretty apt. “And that thing with Sebastian was just sex.”

He thought he’d tossed that off with conviction but Mercedes’ snort suggested otherwise. “Yeah, tell that to someone who hasn’t been having girl-talk sleepovers with you for the past three years. You don’t do ‘just sex.’”

Kurt looked around the increasingly crowded room and lowered his voice. “Well Sebastian only does ‘just sex’ and I knew that when I kissed him and I did it anyway. ‘Just sex’ was the deal from the start. Sebastian’s hot and it was amazing and it’s not happening again.”

“Oh, so you’re perfectly fine going from amazing sex with the hottest guy around to shopping dates with a hyperactive insect boy?”

Kurt sighed. “This is my life, Mercedes. This is how my life works. Chandler’s the rule and Sebastian is very much the exception. So the exception was fun but now I have to either live in the real world or accept that I’m going to be single for the rest of my life. And stop calling him an insect.”

“Well what about George?”

Kurt had to suppress a groan. What about George? Good question.

He’d waited most of Sunday for George to call and explain why he hadn’t shown up to the party, part of him hoping for the call and part of him (the part who’d had George’s ex’s lips around his dick) dreading it. But George didn’t know about that and calling to explain his absence shouldn’t have been a big deal. Not wanting to hang out with the ex who’d screwed him over was a perfectly acceptable excuse. When most of the day had gone by with nothing, Kurt finally given in and, after practicing in the mirror until he was sure he could hit exactly the right note of curious but not desperate - and certainly not guilty about anything - he’d made the call. He hadn’t even been surprised when the call went to voicemail.

So Kurt had felt okay about making a date with Chandler. He and George had only had one date, George wasn’t rushing to explain his behavior, so he was pretty sure he was on safe moral ground there. But there was no way he could rationalize fooling around with the guy who’d screwed George over and pretty much ruined his life. But on the other hand, there was no way he could rationalize why George hadn’t simply told him that he wasn’t comfortable going to the party, or responded to his voicemail. The fact that he hadn’t made Kurt suspect that the whole thing might have been more about Sebastian, all along, than it was ever about Kurt.

And he wasn’t even going to try to rationalize the way he’d felt in Sebastian’s arms. Kissing George had been exciting; kissing Sebastian was incendiary. George’s hands had made electricity sing through his body but Sebastian’s hands (and mouth and everything else) had set him on fire and made him feel sexual in a way he’d never experienced. The minute he’d gotten the green light Sebastian had treated him just like anyone else he slept with. Which Kurt thought probably should have made him feel anonymous and interchangeable, but really, in the moment, made him feel more like an object of desire than he ever had or ever expected to.

Kurt lasted until Tuesday before he called again, and this time George picked up. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Kurt knew he couldn’t go out with George again after what had happened with Sebastian. At least, not without confessing everything, which he had no intention of doing, and George, for his part, seemed distant and distracted. Kurt could make out voices in the background, and music, and they ended the call quickly without making any further plans. Kurt was pretty sure that was the last he was going to hear from George Deming. He wanted to blame Sebastian for this, too, but found that he couldn’t. He sort of felt like he was better off without George, just as Sebastian had implied.

But he couldn’t tell Mercedes any of this so he simply said, “George and I went out once. Chandler’s really nice and he likes me. I’m not in a position to blow off guys who like me.”

“Kurt, please! You can do so much better! David said . . .” She trailed off into silence.

“What did David say?” Kurt prompted, not about to let such a blatant slip-up go unnoticed.

“Um, before the party, he said something about you being lucky you weren’t at Dalton because half the gay guys there would be trying to get into your pants and the other half would be hating you for it.” Her voice was flat, completely devoid of any self-satisfaction at laying that fact on him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

“Nothing.”

“Tell that to someone who hasn’t been having sleepovers with you for the past three years. What happened with David? Did he say something about me and Sebastian?”

There was another moment of silence, then, “I really haven’t talked to him since the party.”

“Wait, what? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you have a fight?” Kurt pressed, suddenly worried for his friend.

“You’re on a date, Kurt,” Mercedes sighed, “we can talk about this later.”

“Don’t even, Jones. You haven’t talked to him since the party?”

“He called me Sunday morning to make sure I got home okay. He sounded a little embarrassed about drinking so much, but it seemed fine. Then . . . nothing.”

“But I thought you guys talked every day?”

“We do . . . we did,” Mercedes said quietly, “and I don’t know what happened. I left him a message on Tuesday but he hasn’t called me back. I don’t know what to do, Kurt. I really like him and I thought he liked me too.”

And of course that was the moment that a certain blonde head came bouncing across the court, craning left and right trying to spot Kurt.

“Oh, God, the insect’s here.” Kurt was gratified to hear Mercedes giggle a little at that. “Look, I’m calling you as soon as I’m done here and we’re going to go get some ice cream or something and you can tell me everything.”

“You have fun, Boo. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” A click from the other end of the phone told Kurt that Mercedes had hung up before he could argue. Giving a small sigh he pocketed his phone and waved an arm to attract Chandler’s attention.

“Oh, God, I’m not late am I?” Chandler babbled breathlessly as he dropped into the chair opposite Kurt. “I never realized how big this mall is, although it might just have been that I was so excited; I get excited and then I don’t pay attention to things and then I end up late.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt said with a smile, “you’re not late. I was early.”

They smiled and chattered and ordered food. But the more Chandler gushed about Kurt’s choice of clothing and the sales at the various stores he’d passed on the way to the food court the more Kurt realized that a shopping buddy was not what he was looking for in a boyfriend. Only in his life, he thought as he gave half his attention to Chandler’s melodic prattling and the other half to his burrito, could he suddenly have three guys interested in him in the space of a week and have none of them turn out to be a suitable date. And the more Chandler went on the more Kurt found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to be sitting across from Sebastian, his mouth pitching insults while his eyes pitched promises about what would be happening once they were alone.

No! Kurt shoved the image of green eyes away and forced himself to focus on the blue ones magnified by oversized glasses.

“...so I thought Rainbow High would be the perfect song, but the man said they were completely out of the score, which I didn’t believe for a second, I just think he had some deep-rooted issues with a boy singing a girl song...” he paused long enough that Kurt realized some kind of reply was expected, but he only got as far as raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth before Chandler went on, “...I’m sure you get that all the time too, right? I mean, obviously no one in this godforsaken town can possibly conceive of a gender-neutral presentation for a song like that. What I wanted to say was...”

Oh, God. Mercedes was right. Now Kurt was never going to be able to get the image of Jiminy Cricket out of his mind.

Chandler was still chirping merrily along when Kurt spotted them. Three jocks in McKinley letter jackets trolling around the now-crowded food court looking for a place to sit. He knew better than to stare directly at them, but from his peripheral vision he could tell that they weren’t football players. One of them was definitely Rick “The Stick” Nelson, which meant they had to be from the hockey team. Which was worse than the football team. Finn and Puck and Sam had managed to keep the football players pretty much under control this year, but the hockey team didn’t have any problems with using Kurt or anyone else they didn’t like as a punching bag.

“We’re done, right?” he asked Chandler as the guys moved closer. “We should probably hit those sales before everything good is gone.”

Chandler didn’t take the hint. “I know I’m the world’s slowest eater, but my mother always says if you eat too fast you get fat and she’s a nutritionist so I try to listen to her as much as I can, because, I have to keep the figure, you know?” His voice was high and loud enough to cut through the crowd noise and Kurt winced when one mulleted head turned in their direction then back to make a comment to his friends. “I mean, New York isn’t Ohio, you know? There’s competition in New York! I think it’s important to give yourself every opportunity to...”

The other jocks all laughed at whatever Rick had said and they turned as one to face Kurt. His stomach sank with dread when recognition finally dawned on Rick's face and his smile became decidedly predatory.

"...because I know I can sing, I'm a performer, you know, and in a blind competition I'd win every time but image is so important in this business and it's not really fair but - "

 

"Well look what we have here!"

The short, stocky jock with black hair was right behind Chandler now, and the other two arranged themselves around the table, hemming them in and cutting them off from the people at neighboring tables. Chandler stopped mid-sentence and his face made another so-quick-it-was-comical transition from happy know-it-all to abject fear. At least it would have been comical, if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

"Looks to me like Hummel finally got himself a girlfriend." Rick reached out to ruffle Chandler's hair and they all laughed when Chandler flinched.

"Leave him alone," Kurt said, and all four heads turned toward him.

"Oh, check it out, guys!" Rick said. "Hummel found somebody even girlier than him so he can be the man for a change. I guess we know who fucks who in this relationship!"

All four of them laughed again, and Kurt quickly weighed his options. Much as he hated it, they were outnumbered and the people at nearby tables seemed determined to ignore what was happening. The best plan was to try to placate them and get away as fast as possible. Somewhere a baby began to cry and Kurt blessed its perfect timing.

"Okay, you’ve had your fun, now why don't you stop scaring children and move along?" he attempted.

"There's just one problem with that." Rick took an exaggerated look around the room and his two goons followed suit. "There aren't any tables left. So…you're gonna give us yours."

"W-we're not done yet," Chandler stammered.

"I don't care, sweet cheeks. This is a table for four. And since there's three of us and only two of you, we get dibs."

"One and a half, really," one of the other jocks said. "The little one doesn't even count as a whole person."

Rick snorted and high-fived his friend.

Kurt was torn. He knew they should just get up and walk away, but the part of him that was about to graduate and move to New York, the part that had been up against a door with Sebastian-freaking-Smythe on his knees blowing him, that grown-up part of him was so completely fed up that he found himself contemplating some kind of fighting back.

The young mother with the crying baby rescued him. "Excuse me," she said, tapping one of the taller guys on the shoulder, "I'm done. You can have my table." She gestured to the four empty chairs nearby and then hurried away, holding the baby and pushing its stroller one-handed.

Rick pursed his lips and surveyed the empty table critically. "I don't know, guys, I still think I like this table better," he said to his cronies. "What do you think?"

"I think the queers need to move and give us our table," the short one sneered.

That was the last straw. "You have a table. We're not moving," Kurt said.

Rick glared at him. All around them other people were starting to get up and leave, and Kurt could see some of the employees at the various food stalls muttering to each other.

Rick seemed oblivious to all of this. "If I say you're moving, Hummel, you're moving." He grabbed the seat of Chandler's chair and pulled, tumbling Chandler to the floor with a squeal that quickly turned into a yelp of pain. Chandler scrambled to his feet, cradling his arm, and Kurt jumped up as well.

He really needed to just grab Chandler and run, but he could see one of the employees on the phone and he was willing to bet she was calling security. With back up on the way he suddenly felt much more confrontational.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he practically yelled in Rick's face. "You really need to reconsider your choice of sport, a couple more pucks to the head and you'll be endangering your brilliant future as a bag boy at Walmart."

"What's wrong with me?" Rick asked, advancing menacingly. "Oh, I'm going to show you exactly what's wrong with me, Princess."

Crap. Kurt had apparently either underestimated the security response time or overestimated how much Rick liked to toy with his victims before he went in for the kill. Words were great when you had guards with batons to back you up, but they didn’t much help against fists. The hockey player’s hand whipped back so fast that all Kurt could think to do was close his eyes and throw up his hands to try to ward off the blow.

The blow never came. There was a crash, though, and Kurt’s eyes flew open at the sound; he thought at first that the goons must have decided to use Chandler as a punching bag instead of him, but the sight that met his eyes was weirder than he could have ever imagined. Rick was sprawled on his back amid the remains of their meal and standing over him, perfectly calm and serene, was Sebastian Smythe.

And as Kurt and Rick both gaped at him Sebastian’s lips quirked up in his trademark smirk. “Just for future reference,” he told Rick with a smile, “I’m the only one who gets to call him Princess.”

* * *

Sebastian winced slightly in the aftermath of the impact that his body hadn't quite been prepared for, flexing his hand and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to make the stabs of discomfort that were shooting up and down his left side go away. As the tingling slowly died down, he took a second to take stock of what he had just done; he had almost certainly aggravated an old lacrosse injury (caused, funnily enough, by performing a similar shoulder-check on the field – anybody who said that lacrosse was a non-contact sport had obviously never seen a game in action), he had willingly put himself in the firing line of three now incredibly angry, meat-head jocks and, judging by the shrieks of the cashier at the counter behind them, he was about to get frog-marched out of this place by some overzealous mall cops.

And it had been totally worth it.

He cocked his hip and made a show of lazily inspecting the knuckles of his left hand - the one that had sent Jock No. 1 flying - as said jock struggled to his feet angrily, brushing off the help of his cronies with a swipe of his arm. When he was standing again Sebastian gave a put-upon sigh, and placed his hand on his waist as if he were scolding a misbehaving child.

“No, no, _no_. You were supposed to stay down there, pet. You look much better on your back for me - or at least you would if I didn't have standards or, you know, eyes. Oh hey, Princess, how’s it going?” He barely paused for breath as he seamlessly transitioned into casually greeting Kurt, who had come to stand next to him and, if the quick glance Sebastian had taken was any indication, was currently shooting daggers at him. Now that wasn't very nice, especially since Sebastian had gone out of his way to help out.

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Sebastian? I'm not some damsel in distress, and I don't need rescuing, especially not by you,” Kurt hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes trained on the three hockey players in front of them, who were still trying to put themselves back together after being caught so completely off guard.

“You might call it rescuing, I prefer to call it 'leveling the playing field,’” Sebastian replied casually, twisting his head to throw a smirk at Kurt before joining him in watching their common adversary. He paused for a second, then continued in a slightly quieter tone, “Come on Kurt, it was three against one, and don't try and tell me short-stuff over there was going to be of any help to you whatsoever. Call me crazy, but when a battle's _that_ one-sided it's just no fun.”

It was supposed to be a light-hearted jibe about their own verbal sparring, where both parties gave as good as they got and Sebastian always walked away feeling exhilarated rather than beaten, no matter who had won the round, and he kind of expected some sarcastic comment in response. So, when all he heard was a soft sigh from beside him, something inside his chest twisted. He always knew he was lucky being at a school like Dalton, but sometimes he forgot just _how_ lucky he was. Despite everything that had happened to him at that school, he had never had to deal with _this_ day in and day out. It must be absolute hell.

Still, he thought to himself, at least there was something he could do about it now. Giving Kurt a small nudge with his shoulder he lowered his voice so that he was sure the boys in front of them couldn't hear him. “Come on, babe, don't tell me you don't want to play. Look how shiny our new toys are.”

“So what is this now? A fairy convention?” Jock No. 2 cut in loudly, his bravado just that little bit forced after having seen his friend wiped clean off his feet moments earlier.

Sebastian gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “Ah but alas, I left my wand at home today! Never mind, I'm sure I can do just as much damage without it, wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?” He threw a coy wink at Jock No.1, who scowled and crossed his arms, not knowing how to react to such blatant flirting.

“Watch it, fag,” he muttered sullenly, though it was clear his heart wasn't in it any more.

Seeing his enemies so clearly on the back foot seemed to decide something for Kurt, whose gaze turned steely and he straightened his shoulders just that little bit more. “Come on now, Sebastian, didn't your mother ever teach you it’s not nice to tease poor, dumb animals?” he chided, his voice layered with sarcasm.

“Hummel, I'm warning you,” Jock No. 1 began, cracking his knuckles to make himself seem more intimidating, but Kurt simply scoffed, his gaze derisive as he raised an eyebrow at the boy who spoke.

“Seriously Rick? I know it's hard to form those pesky things called sentences, but surely even you can manage to string together more than 4 words in a row.” Kurt didn't wait for a response, simply turning slightly so that he was now talking to Sebastian rather than the jocks, “I think our toys are broken, do you think we can get a refund?”

“Right, that's it.” Jock No. 3 growled, advancing on Kurt and Sebastian with menace in his eyes, and no, that really wouldn't do. Mall security would be here any minute and Sebastian really didn't want to be in the middle of an all-out brawl when they arrived. Holding his hands in front of him in the universal symbol for “stop” he spoke quickly. “So which of you boys owns the hummer parked outside?”

It was enough of a random question to make the stocky boy stop in his tracks, turning back towards his friends in confusion. Sebastian sighed, and spoke with over-exaggerated patience, “You know, big thing with wheels? Makes loud noises? Size of the engine inversely proportional to the size of your dick?” In all honesty Sebastian had no idea if the big yellow beast he had seen in the parking lot belonged to any of the boys in front of him, but he figured that given the walking stereotype this lot seemed to be it was a fairly safe bet that _one_ of them at least would own a car vaguely matching that description.

Jock No. 2 frowned, obviously not sure if he had just been insulted or not. “What does it matter to you?” Bingo, there was the money shot.

Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms. “Just making conversation, doll, no need to get your panties in a twist...what's the safety rating like on those things anyway?”

“Safety what-now? What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Jock No. 2 spluttered, obviously angry at Sebastian’s lack of intimidation.

“Oh, but see, it all depends on who's driving,” Kurt cut in, and Sebastian couldn't help grinning quietly to himself. He knew Kurt would catch on fast, but he hadn't quite anticipated just _how_ on the same page they would be when faced with a common adversary.

“What do you mean, babe?” He asked innocently, sliding an arm around Kurt's waist and forcing himself to stifle a laugh at how uncomfortable the Neanderthals looked at the gesture. Sebastian felt Kurt arm wrap around his own waist in response, drawing him closer as Kurt stage whispered in Sebastian's ear, his eyes never leaving the trio in front of them.

“I can't tell you how many times we've had cars like that come into my Dad's garage with brakes are just absolutely _shot_. It seems to be a recurring problem when the owner is teenaged, homophobic, and always wearing a letterman jacket.”

The three goons shared looks, each apparently sizing up the others’ ages and apparel.

Sebastian drew away slightly, turning towards Kurt as if in shock “Wait, are you implying that a car is more likely to break down if the driver is a jackass?”

Kurt nodded sagely, expression completely deadpan as his eyes glittered with fire. “There does seem to be a direct correlation between levels of assholery and likelihood of crashing, yes.”

Sebastian gave an exaggerated gasp, his hand flying to his mouth. “No!”

“Yes! And it can be so dangerous if the brakes go while you're out driving; one minute you're going along happily and the next you're wrapped around a tree. And it happens so fast, almost as if brakes have _actually been cut.”_

“Alright that's enough!” Jock No. 1 interrupted angrily. “If you think you can threaten us and expect to get away with it...”

Sebastian held up his hands in mock-surprise. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about threats?” He turned toward Kurt. “Did you hear any threats babe?”

Kurt shook his head, eyes wide, “No threats here, just a friendly observation, I just don't understand where this animosity is suddenly coming from, Seb, I really don't.”

Sebastian shrugged and turned back towards the jocks, “I think you must be confused boys, though I guess that's nothing new, right?”

Jock No. 1 stood stunned for a long moment, before throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Fuck this shit. Come on guys, let’s go.” The three boys stalked away, not even bothering to shoulder-check either Kurt or Sebastian as they walked past. When they were a couple of feet away Jock No. 3 turned around to yell, “This isn't over, Hummel.”

Kurt gave a cheery wave. “Looking forward to it, Bateman, looking forward to it.”

The two of them watched as the trio hurried off, not moving until they had disappeared into the distance. Sebastian could feel the blood thrumming through his veins and his whole body was practically humming with energy. _God_ that had felt good, to join forces with someone who could match Sebastian intellectually and really rip into a common enemy (who, honestly, deserved far worse than they had gotten). After a long moment he turned to see Kurt watching him, a slightly shy smile etched across his face. Suddenly embarrassed Sebastian gave a small cough. “You were pretty good just then, Hummel.”

Kurt's smile grew just that tiny bit broader. “You weren't so bad yourself, _Smythe_.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” A shrill voice pitched up from behind them, and Sebastian turned with a start to see Chandler sitting at a nearby table with a bag of ice pressed to his wrist and _fuck_ , he had forgotten that the other boy was even there, had forgotten that he had basically just gate-crashed Kurt's date. It seemed that Kurt's date didn't seem to mind too much, however. The short boy bounced in his seat, eyes bright as he waved his uninjured hand animatedly. “That was the best thing I've ever seen!”

Sebastian grinned and gave a little bow, waggling his eyebrows at Kurt who had to stifle a giggle behind his hand. His buoyant mood was slightly dampened, however, when he straightened up and caught sight of two uniformed men heading towards them. Crap, he had totally forgotten about security.

“Excuse me boys,” he muttered quietly before sauntering over to the Sbarro cashier, who had been closest to the action, and who had no doubt been the one to call for reinforcements. It only took a few well chosen words, and an 'accidental' brushing of his fingers over her forearm (never let it be said that Sebastian Smythe didn't know how to turn on the charm when needed) for him to be reasonably confident that the girl would be able to placate the mall cops enough for them not to be troubled. With a final wink, which had the poor girl obviously swooning, he turned and walked back towards Kurt and Chandler, where the former was watching Sebastian with clear amusement in his eyes.

“Sebastian Smythe flirting his way to freedom yet again. Nothing like using your body to get ahead, isn't that right?” Kurt's tone was light, almost carefree, but Sebastian couldn't miss the underlying edge to Kurt's words. It was obvious in the way the boy held himself, shoulders squared to Sebastian in a way that was almost confrontational, in the way his voice hitched ever so slightly in anticipation at the end. This was a silent request from Kurt, his actions voicing what his words could clearly never say.

 _Don't go treating me any differently because of what you just saw, don't go easy on me, I don't want that, I've never wanted that_.

And of course, Sebastian wasn't about to disappoint, not after the truly spectacular back-and-forth the two of them had just engaged in. He had known before today that Kurt could more than hold his own, and Kurt’s reaction just now had only reinforced that sentiment. Plus, Sebastian was pretty sure Kurt craved the mental exercise as much as he did, he _needed_ this just as much as Sebastian, he could just tell. Giving a soft sigh he turned to Kurt, “Yup, it's an important life skill. But don't worry Princess, as soon as you lose that newborn kitten look I'm sure you'll pick it up fast.”

“Newborn kitten, huh? That's funny, I didn't know you had a thing for animals.” Kurt's eyes glittered with excited anticipation, the teases and jabs flowing easily between them and honestly, the difference between their banter and the harsh taunts of the jocks earlier couldn't have been in starker contrast.

Sebastian snorted, “Looks like we're on the same page on that count, if Jiminy Cricket over here is anything to go by.” He nodded his head towards the shorter boy, who was still watching their interaction with amusement, and oh yes, he was still crashing their date wasn't he? He should probably do something about that.

“Speaking of which, I should probably be heading out. I'm slightly worried if I hang around you two flamers much longer I might actually catch on fire.” Sebastian gave a satirical salute and spun around, heading off before either of the other boys had a chance to respond, forcing himself to resist the urge to look back over his shoulder. His work here was done, there was no point in him hanging around - even if joining forces with Kurt had made him feel more alive than he had in _years_.

He had just made it to the parking lot when he heard rapid footfall behind him, and he frowned slightly as Chandler's perfectly styled hair popped into view almost under his nose. The shorter boy fell into step next to him as they both walked between the rows of parked cars.

“Bailed on your date so soon, short-stuff?” He asked with just a hint of disapproval in his voice, something in his gut rebelling at the thought of Kurt being jilted like that, but Chandler simply replied with a short laugh.

“Oh no, it was just time to call it a day, you know? I mean Kurt's lovely, more than lovely, he's an absolute angel, but he's clearly interested in somebody else, and if I spend much more time around him I'm going to fall completely head-over-heels, and my Mom always says not to give your heart to somebody who can't give theirs in return...”

Sebastian frowned, only half listening to the rest of Chandler's monologue. So Kurt was clearly still hung up on George then. Damn. He had to admit, he hadn't exactly been happy when he saw Kurt ask for Chandler's number, but in the grand scheme of things surely it was better if Kurt was with him, rather than _him_ right? Holding up a hand to cut off the boy mid-flow, he stopped walking so that he could turn and face Chandler fully, staring him down in what he hoped properly conveyed his seriousness.

“Look Jiminy, if you like Kurt then you shouldn't let George stand in your way. You're ten times the man that guy is, and Kurt probably just needs a little nudge to see that, okay?” It was a pretty good speech, if he did say so himself, and Sebastian threw his most dazzling smile at Chandler, ruthlessly squashing down the angry gremlin in his stomach that was protesting at Sebastian facilitating Kurt hooking up with anybody who wasn't him.

Instead of being overawed by Sebastian's incredible motivational speech, however, Chandler frowned slightly, looking confused as he replied, “Who's George?”

Sebastian opened and closed his mouth a few times, not knowing quite how to respond. So maybe Kurt hadn't exactly referenced George by name, but surely Chandler could make the inference by himself, _surely_ he wasn't that stupid? He raised an eyebrow at Chandler, who simply raised one back, smiling slightly as if he knew something Sebastian didn't. Ah screw it, he had tried. The kid was on his own now. “You know what, never mind,” he replied with a small huff, making a start towards his car once again, hoping he would be left in peace this time.

“So...are you single?” The words caught Sebastian completely off guard, and when he spun round towards Chandler for a second time he was pretty sure his mouth was completely open in shock.

“I- um- okay look, darling. You're sweet and all, but I'm afraid you're really not my type so...” he trailed off slowly as Chandler waved him down impatiently.

“Yes, yes, okay, I know that already, I may be from Lima but I'm not _completely_ naive, geez. No, I was just trying to come up with some sort of explanation as to why you and Kurt aren't together, since it's fairly obvious that _he's_ your type at least.”

“Kurt?” Sebastian parroted back dumbly, his brain not quite on board yet with the conversation that they somehow seemed to have fallen into.

“Yes. Kurt. You know, the guy you've been engaging in the hottest verbal foreplay with for the better part of the last hour - that Kurt? Don't tell me you don't see what's going on here,” Chandler replied, his mouth twitching into a smile as he took in Sebastian's completely nonplused expression.

“Oh. _Oh_.” Chandler laughed a high, excitable laugh, clapping his hands together eagerly. “Oh my god, you two are absolutely _adorable_.”

Sebastian sighed, massaging his temple with his first two fingers. This was just too much. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, short-stuff.”

Chandler simply gave him a knowing look, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically. “You keep telling yourself that, you keep telling yourself that.” With one final wave Chandler disappeared into a parallel row of cars, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts, which had suddenly gotten _very_ confusing.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt pulled into the parking lot at Dalton Academy and chose a regular student spot as far from the building as possible, intentionally avoiding the spots marked “visitor” that sat quite a bit closer. For once the Navigator didn’t stick out as it did among all the Toyotas and Volkswagons and battered pickup trucks at McKinley. The Dalton parking lot was decidedly more upscale and his baby, at least, was in good company there.

It was a simple plan. It had been four days since his strangely aborted date with Chandler and Mercedes had still not heard from David. When she refused to leave him any more messages (“The last thing I’m going to do is moon over a guy who doesn’t want me!”) Kurt had snuck his number from her phone and tried calling himself. But David hadn’t answered and Kurt's very tactful message hadn’t been returned. So he’d decided on a more direct approach. Because anyone with eyes could see that David had been completely besotted with Mercedes and if she wasn’t willing to confront him about what was going on, well, Kurt was perfectly happy to do it for her. And the possibility of seeing Sebastian again had absolutely nothing to do with it.

At least, that’s what he tried to tell the nervous butterflies in his stomach.

He climbed out of the car and appraised the building. The main entrance was probably a bad idea. He was hoping to slip in quietly, locate Mercedes’ erstwhile boyfriend’s room, and have a little chat with him without anyone else being aware that he’d been there. Not even Sebastian. Especially not Sebastian, he told himself fiercely. So the main door was out, but from where he was parked he could see a little door on one side of the building, a side without any windows at all, which was an added bonus as no one would see him approach. He made a beeline for it.

The door wasn’t locked, and Kurt slipped into a quiet, dark-paneled corridor. Classes should be out for the day so he’d expected the public areas to be fairly deserted, and they were, but he’d barely gone five feet when he heard the sounds of singing voices echoing from somewhere.

Of course. Warbler practice. This complicated things, although it also made it very easy to find David, he supposed. He followed the sounds around a corner and down a few more hallways until he found their source. A door stood open halfway up the hall - it had to be the Warblers’ practice room.

He crept closer and discovered a little alcove near the bend in the corridor with an ornate bench where he thought he'd be safe to sit and wait for the practice to end. Then maybe he could grab David as he left and persuade him to talk. Others would see him, but it didn’t seem like that could be avoided now. And his heart absolutely did not lurch with excitement at that thought.

As he settled onto the bench the group in the room finished their complicated warm-up and launched into song. It was a Jackson 5 number - I Want You Back - and the background vocals were so bouncy and upbeat that Kurt, full of nervous energy anyhow, could barely refrain from jumping up and dancing along. Then Sebastian's tenor sailed above the other voices on lead and thoughts of dancing went right out of Kurt's head.

The Warblers had always been good; the Warblers with Sebastian were phenomenal. And it was far too easy for Kurt to imagine Sebastian, with his strong, masculine grace, leading the group in those synchronized dance moves. It was also far too easy to remember how that voice had sounded as Sebastian had come under Kurt’s hands, and no, that was the last thing he needed to think about.

"Are you spying?"

The question startled him so badly he almost fell off the bench. He spun around to find a vaguely familiar-looking boy, tall, with blonde hair that looked like it could use a trim.

"I'm just kidding," the boy said with a friendly smile. "I'm Jeff. We met at . . ."

"Right," Kurt said. "I remember you." Honestly, he hadn't recognized Jeff without the other boy wrapped around him.

"You're Mercedes' friend, right?"

"Kurt." He held out his hand to shake. Jeff looked a little surprised as he took it.

"They sound great, don't they?" Jeff inclined his head toward the practice room door. "You don't need to spy to know we're going to give you guys a run for your money this year."

"I'm not spying, I promise."

Jeff settled himself on the bench with Kurt, who was a little taken aback, given that they were on opposite sides of the show choir competition (and also, he guessed, the Mercedes/David situation).

"So is it Sebastian, then?"

"What?"

Jeff grinned at him. "If you're not spying you must be looking for Sebby. Guys are always looking for Sebby."

Kurt ignored the stab of pain that this information caused him. "No." He managed to sound as if the idea was ludicrous. "I'm looking for David. He hasn't been returning Mercedes' calls." Kurt hadn't meant to reveal so much, or anything really, to anyone, but the whole Sebastian thing had thrown him and he found himself talking just to talk. He needed to get back to the plan. "Shouldn't you be in there?" he asked, indicating the doorway.

Jeff nodded his head vigorously. "Yep. But I have a paper due in history class tomorrow, and I was too busy making out with my boyfriend last night to finish it. And I can't finish it tonight because I'll be too busy again.” He gave Kurt a sly wink. “Something's got to give and between homework, practice and Nick I'm afraid it's the practice." He stood up then, apparently ready to head off to tackle his paper. "I'm really sorry about your friend." He smiled down at Kurt a little sadly. "I thought they were sweet together. But Seb's usually right about this kind of thing."

Something clenched tight in Kurt’s stomach. Jeff started to walk away but Kurt's hand shot out almost of its own volition and grabbed him by the arm. "Seb's usually right about what?" he asked.

Jeff's eyes went wide like he realized he'd screwed up. "Um, well, you know, they're not really in the same - ah, social class?"

"Social class?" Kurt repeated stupidly. "I thought this place was all about acceptance and tolerance?"

"Oh, it is! But, you know, parents and families don't necessarily...I mean, I've been really lucky, Nick's family is totally okay with us but believe me, not everyone would be."

Kurt's confusion must have shown because Jeff hurried to add, "Oh, I'm a scholarship kid. My dad's an electrician. My brothers and sister all go to public school."

"Then why are you here?" Kurt couldn't help asking.

"Bullying." Jeff said simply. "When my collarbone got broken my parents managed to force the district to pay for part of my tuition here on the grounds that the school couldn't keep me safe. And Dalton gave me a scholarship for the rest."

Kurt stared at him, trying to imagine the kid who'd been spread out on a couch at David's party giggling and happily eating his boyfriend's face in front of everyone, spread instead inside a dumpster or under a bank of lockers, gasping in pain with a broken bone.

"Anyway, David's parents are really rich. His grandfather was in on the beginnings of computers somehow, way back when, and he started his own company, and they're all gajillionaires now. Seb was just afraid that Mercedes might not...you know, fit in."

"But why does he get to make that decision?"

Jeff shrugged. "I guess David must have thought he was right or he wouldn't have broken it off."

Or maybe David was just too easily led, Kurt thought. “So that was it? They're just socially incompatible?"

"Well, that, and honestly, it seemed like she wasn't really as into it as he was. We could all see that."

Kurt gaped at him. "And it never occurred to David that maybe you, your boyfriend and Sebastian aren't exactly the best judges of how a girl acts when she's in love?"

Jeff huffed a chuckle. "You do have a point there."

"I mean just because she doesn't climb all over him like . . ." He stopped himself just in time. He really didn't want to judge how Jeff behaved. That would make him just as bad as Sebastian.

Kurt was starting to feel more than a little sick. Sebastian had made David break up with Mercedes. He’d made David believe that Mercedes didn’t care about him. Because of money.

"Well, you know, Sebastian and David have been friends a long time. Since before Seb went to Paris. They watch out for each other. I don't think Seb would just tell David something like that if he wasn't really trying to help."

"Oh yes. Selfless and altruistic. That's definitely Sebastian," Kurt muttered.

Jeff was becoming visibly uncomfortable now, and he started to back up away from the alcove. “Anyhow, I’ve got to get to that paper. Nice to see you Kurt.” He turned and hurried away.

Kurt sat stunned for a minute, listening to Sebastian’s gorgeous voice coming from the practice room. He was angry. More than angry. Sebastian had told David to break it off with Mercedes. Sebastian had stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong, between two people who really liked each other, and who knew how things might have gone otherwise? Mercedes had certainly thought David could be _The One_ , and he’d seemed completely smitten with her. But now Mercedes was heartbroken and David, if his previous happiness was any indication, had to be miserable, and it was all Sebastian’s fault.

God, he’d been an idiot. Mooning over Sebastian (and he had been mooning, he had to admit, after they’d demolished those jocks at the mall together) and letting himself imagine - well, things that he had no business imagining, especially in light of what he already knew from George. He’d half convinced himself that since George had turned out to be inconsistent and flighty then maybe his opinion of Sebastian couldn’t be trusted. But Sebastian’s own friend had just confirmed Kurt’s worst suspicions, and Kurt was out of excuses.

All at once Kurt realized that the singing had stopped, and he could hear a jumble of voices coming from the practice room door. Affirmations of jobs well done, admonishments to practice before the next meeting, clearly the session was over and soon boys would be flooding the corridor heading back to their dorms. There was no way he could make it back up the hallway in time to avoid being seen. And he most definitely didn’t want to be seen. He couldn’t deal with talking to David now, with all this new information still ringing in his ears.

Thinking frantically, he darted across the hall and jerked on the handle of the first door he saw. Thankfully, it was unlocked and he slipped into the empty classroom just as the first Warblers appeared in the practice room doorway.

He hid there, listening, until the thumping of feet and chatter of voices died completely away, then he eased the door open. The coast was clear. He closed the door noiselessly and began to make his way back up the hall toward his exit. But he didn’t get more than two steps when he froze in his tracks.

“I don’t know, Seb. Are you sure it isn’t because of that twink from McKinley?”

The voice came from the practice room, and Kurt’s heart raced into overdrive when Sebastian’s voice responded, heavy with sarcasm. “Really? You think you’re so memorable that the only reason I won’t fuck you again is because there’s someone else? Come on, Matty, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

What Kurt needed to do was keep walking, out the door, into his car, but somehow his feet weren’t getting the message.

“Keep telling yourself that, Seb. But I’ve seen how you look at him. Shit, everyone’s seen it. It’s big fucking news when Sebastian Smythe gets all moony over a boy. Especially one like him.” The words were obviously meant to be an attack; the anger in them made even Kurt, safe outside the room, cringe.

Not even wild stampeding rhinos could have dragged him away now. He pressed himself against the wall, as if that would make him invisible if they came out of the room, and (shamelessly, he reminded himself) listened.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sebastian’s voice was cool, biting.

There was a little, derisive laugh. “It’s all over the school: Sebastian Smythe hot for a low-rent public school tranny whose dad owns a tire shop.”

 _He’s also a congressman,_ Kurt thought, his face burning.

“He happens to be a congressman,” Sebastian said, and Kurt had to suppress a gasp.

“Please!” Matthew scoffed. “My mother’s cousin’s husband was a congressman and he can barely speak English. And what do you think your parents would say if you brought that cheap RuPaul to one of their fancy fundraisers?”

“First, my parents are fine with me being gay and second, don’t project your jealousy onto me. I’m rejecting you because I don’t want you, not because I want Kurt.”

“There’s gay and there’s gay, and you know that as well as I do. You say “gay” your parents think Tom Ford or Matt Mitcham. So what happens when you walk in with _that_ on your arm?”

“Oh my God, look. There’s not going to be any walking in on any arms,” Sebastian’s voice was rising and strained with anger. “I fucked him. That’s it. Over and out.”

A pain stabbed through Kurt. He needed to go, he willed his feet to move but they rebelliously stayed firmly rooted to the spot.

“On second thought,” Matthew went on as if Sebastian hadn’t even spoken, “maybe you _should_ take him to one of your dad’s shindigs. Maybe your grandmother will think he’s an actual girl and put you back in her will. Just make sure you fuck him first, get this ridiculous phase out of your system once and for all.”

There was noise then, some kind of scuffle, and a grunt, but Kurt couldn’t tell who from. The voice that finally spoke, though, was Sebastian’s. “We are done here, you understand? You keep away from me and you don’t mention Kurt again.”

“Does he know about the party?” Matthew’s voice sounded a bit strangled, as if Sebastian had him by the throat. “Does he know your dick was in me before it was even cold from him?”

Kurt didn’t manage to stifle that gasp, and as his stomach twisted with nausea and a loud crash echoed from the practice room he turned, finally, and ran down the hall, out the little door and back to the safety of his car.

* * *

The blood was pounding in Sebastian's ears as he struggled to keep himself under control. How on earth had he ever considered this piece of work a friend? _What_ on earth had possessed him to go home with Matthew after that party? Really, when had he gotten that pathetic?

He had allowed himself to cover up the electrifying feel of Kurt's hands, lips, skin against his own with a half-rate equivalent from a boy he was barely attracted to, simply because he couldn't handle how it had felt to be with Kurt, and seeing Kurt with another guy. Instead of owning up to what he was feeling, standing and fighting for him (and losing, the part of his brain that had definitely been in control that night still argued adamantly) he had run away, hid behind his armor of “Sebastian Smythe, Player Without a Cause” and this was clearly his punishment - forced to stand and listen as some asshole laid out his faults in a neat line.

Well fuck him. Fuck them all; he didn't need any of them, least of all the boy with perfect eyes who seemed to constantly haunt his dreams, leaving him hot and sweaty and in desperate need of a cold shower. He definitely didn't need him, even if “everyone” thought they had seen something different.

He tightened his grip around Matthew's throat, his gaze deadly as he made sure to lock eyes with the slightly taller boy. “I don't know what you think is going on here but you are going to stop talking _right_ _now_. You knew exactly what the deal was between us, and don't even try and tell me I led you on, because I always tell my fucks where they stand,” Sebastian had to pause for a second as his mind flashed back to the other night, with its “ _one-time only deal_ ”, and something incredibly nasty twisted in his gut. Scowling he forced himself back to the present. “So you are going to shut the fuck up, get the hell out of my sight before I do something I seriously regret, and if I _ever_ hear you talk about Kurt again, the fact that I won't tap your sorry ass is going to be the least of your worries. Am I making myself clear?”

He waited, staring Matthew down until the other boy gave a short nod. Releasing his grasp (which really hadn't been that tight, Sebastian had always been more bark than bite) he crossed his arms, tapping his foot as he waited for Matthew to get his books together and, finally, leave him in peace.

“Damn Seb, this one's really gotten under your skin hasn't he?” Matthew muttered sullenly, throwing Sebastian one last derisive glare before stepping delicately over the music stand they’d toppled and stalking out of the choir room. Sebastian closed his eyes and forced himself to count slowly to ten before sinking down into the couch conveniently placed at his back, throwing an arm over his eyes in despair.

When the hell had everything gotten so complicated? He wondered to himself vaguely, knowing full well what the answer was. Kurt. Kurt was the reason that his perfectly balanced lifestyle of “ _Don't give a fuck_ ” and “ _Do what makes you happy_ ” seemed to be crumbling around his ears. Kurt was the reason he had come home from Scandals incredibly horny but decidedly alone every night this week. Kurt was the reason he had just had his former friend in a chokehold up against the wall of the choir room and he didn't even feel bad about it. Kurt was the reason Sebastian's blood felt like it was boiling inside his skin every time he closed his eyes, and Kurt was the ghost in his head who wouldn't leave him alone when he jerked off in the shower, coming hard to the thought of long, lean limbs and full, plush lips.

Maybe Matthew was right, maybe he did just need to fuck the boy, get this silly crush out of his system, sweat these ridiculous emotions out of himself through the hot slide of skin-on-skin. Even as the notion popped into his head, though, he was already dismissing it as utter folly. He knew now that one hasty fumble wouldn't be enough for him. He wanted more, he wanted _everything_ , and that idea was possibly not as nerve-wracking at it would have been a week ago, which in itself was truly terrifying. _Fuck._

“ _But what about the fact that he's public school, what about the fact that dating him will put you right in the firing line of every homophobe in this backwater town? Do you really want to put yourself out there like that? For what? A hot piece of ass?”_ The devil on his shoulder had somehow taken on Matthew’s voice, and Sebastian groaned as he sank deeper into the couch. He briefly let his imagination toy with the fantasy of a covert-affair, secret trysts filled with hot and heavy make-out sessions in broom closets, blood thrumming in his veins as the prospect of being caught added to the intense arousal swirling around his body. He could almost picture Kurt, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed as he pushed Sebastian up against a wall, they had to be quick, they had to be silent, the bell for afternoon lessons would ring in just a...

And just like that, the boy in Sebastian's head morphed into somebody completely different. His shoulders grew broader, his jaw squarer, hair darker. All of a sudden Sebastian was a freshman again, with George's hands roaming across his body, and his fantasy was no longer a fantasy but a reality he really wished he didn't have to remember. No, he couldn't do that to Kurt or himself; they both deserved better than some sordid secret.

So no quick fuck, no secret relationship, and clearly just ignoring the problem wasn't working for Sebastian so well right now. Fuck, this was a mess. _He_ was a mess.

Just then the bell calling students to dinner chimed, loud and sharp, startling Sebastian out of his wallowing. Giving a small sigh he pulled himself to his feet. He would deal with this later; right now he needed to check in on David. The boy had missed Warbler practice, and Sebastian knew that if he didn't forcibly drag him out of his room he would probably skip dinner as well. His friend was an absolute wreck, had been ever since “the phone call”, and quite honestly Sebastian had no idea how to help any more.

“Case in point; relationships are a bad, bad idea.” He muttered under his breath as he collected up his schoolbooks and headed for the door.

* * *

Sebastian nudged open the door to his dorm, squinting against the darkness. “Dave?” he spoke quietly, closing the door behind him with a soft click and reaching for the light switch.

“Nrgh,” the mound on the bed moaned when artificial light flooded the room, and Sebastian gave a soft sigh. Padding quietly over towards his best friend he perched on the edge of the mattress, giving David's shoulder a soft shake. “Come on Dave, you'll feel better if you come eat something with the guys. They all miss you.”

“Don't wanna,” David replied petulantly, an arm snaking out to drawer the comforter over his head. It would have been adorable if it wasn't so exasperating, Sebastian couldn't help thinking.

“Okay, enough wallowing, Mister. Up, up, up,” he said in a much louder voice, grabbing the edge of the comforter and tugging hard so that it slid away before David had a chance to grab at it. David flailed and bolted upright, shooting Sebastian an impressive death glare.

“Come off it Sebastian, can't you just let me drown in my own misery?”

“Did you let me do that after George?” The name stuck in his throat, thick and glutinous, but he forced himself to speak without his voice quavering. David had been there for him when everything had crumbled around his ears; it was time to return the favor, and sometimes tough love was the only way forward.

David looked mollified, but only slightly. “That was different,” he muttered sullenly, his eyes flicking downwards as his fingers toyed with the sheets underneath him. “George was an asshole. Mercedes was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Sebastian sighed, hating how broken his friend looked. “David, come on, we've been over this. The best thing to ever happen to you wouldn't leave you to fend for yourself when you get so drunk you can't even stand up, she would be there by your side making sure you were okay. The best thing to ever happen to you would laugh and tell you you were being silly when you called up to apologize the next day, she wouldn't leave you feeling worse than before you called. You've built her up in your head as this perfect girl, but she isn't, and when you love somebody more than they love you you're _always_ going to get hurt.”

“Is that what you tell yourself about Kurt?” David's fingers never ceased in their agitated movements, but apparently even in heartbreak he was still cripplingly observant about the state of Sebastian's own headspace.

Sebastian spluttered slightly, his brain trying to catch up with the sneaky diversionary tactic David had thrown in there. Schooling his features into something he hoped was casually disinterested, he replied in a neutral tone. “Don't try and change the subject Dave, you know Kurt and I are completely different. That was just sex.”

“Oh come off it Seb. We've been friends too long for you to try and pull the 'don't give a crap’ act with me. You can lie to yourself all you want, but don't lie to me.” David's eyes were piercing now, and for the first time in a week Sebastian saw some of the fire back in his best friend's eyes. It was just a shame it had to come at his expense. He wasn't ready to talk about this, not yet.

He sighed, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “It just wouldn't work, for either of us,” he said quietly, his overly chipper voice from before gone. “Society- society wouldn't let it happen.”

David gave a short, sarcastic laugh. “I never thought I'd hear Sebastian Smythe bow to society's standards.”

Sebastian glared at David. “It's not bowing to anyone, it's being practical. You know you couldn't take Mercedes as your date to your cousin's wedding next month, with everybody already worked up about your mother's health. Could you really bring yourself to upset her like that, really David? For a girl who will probably disappear into the wind in a couple of months anyway?”

He knew he was being harsh, brutal even, but sometimes brutal honesty was the only solution. Somebody had to be sensible; somebody needed to keep David from getting more hurt than he already had been, because David was in way too deep to do it for himself.

David gave a small sigh, his shoulder slumping in defeat. “I know, I _know_ okay. It just really fucking hurts.” Twisting his torso he swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up slowly. “Wait for me while I jump in the shower?”

Sebastian gave a silent nod, shuffling so that he was propped up against the headboard of David's bed. Just before David reached the bathroom he paused and turned, fixing Sebastian with a sad but resolute expression. “But Seb, just because that's my story, doesn't mean it has to be yours as well.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sebastian casually swiped a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, forcing himself to sip at the pale liquid slowly rather than downing it all in one go like he was so very tempted to do. At events like these – he was pretty sure this one was the "2012 Ohio Political Meet and Greet" - alcohol was always readily available even if you were completely underage. It was usually the only thing that made these mind-numbingly boring events even halfway bearable; God knows how many of them Sebastian had been forced to attend along with the rest of his family since his father had become State's Attorney two years ago. Normally at these events Sebastian and his sister camped out in a corner playing the "let's see how drunk we can get without the parents realizing" game for most of the night. It was fun.

Not tonight though. Tonight he was going to finally bite the bullet and ask Kurt Hummel out on a date.

Ever since his conversation with David the other day (oh who was he kidding, ever since his and Kurt's ridiculously hot session of call-it-anything-but-sex at the party) he hadn't been able to get the other boy out of his head. Not that he hadn't tried, of course. He had wanted to forget all about Kurt, Christ had he wanted to. Sebastian didn't _do_ dating, and even if he did, Kurt-fucking-Hummel wasn't exactly his usual type. And after his conversation/brawl with Matthew he'd been even more determined to get Kurt completely out of his head.

But despite all of his best distraction tactics it seemed he was well and truly on the hook. He had gone through his own twisted version of the five stages of grief – denial, bargaining, anger - and now it seemed he had finally arrived at some sort of acceptance. Kurt had gotten under his skin, and suddenly the persona of "detached man-whore" that had served him so well for the past three years just didn't seem to cut it any more. He wanted more; he wanted everything. He wanted Kurt.

And of course, once Sebastian had accepted that he and Kurt were an inevitability, he wasn't about to do things half-assed; Sebastian Smythe never did anything half-assed. He was well aware that dating Kurt would mean him embracing Kurt's way of doing things, not vice-versa. So the next step was to go on a date; a proper, honest-to-God date, with a movie, and dinner, and a kiss goodbye on the front porch (and definitely not sex, because he was pretty sure that wasn't what most people did on a first date). Sebastian wiped his suddenly clammy hands surreptitiously on his trousers. Fuck, why did the prospect of something so perfectly innocuous terrify him so very much?

The answer to that question, of course, was currently standing on the other side of the room. Sebastian had forgotten that since Burt Hummel was now a member of Congress the Hummel household would also be attending these shindigs, and so had been caught completely off guard when the first thing he saw upon entering the room was the boy who had occupied the majority of his thoughts for the past week and a bit. When he had first laid eyes on Kurt (in his immaculately tailored suit that somehow seemed to outshine every other garment in the room while still being perfectly, appropriately, traditional) he had almost dropped the canapé he had just been handed. Because, fuck, the prospect of asking Kurt out had been scary enough when the boy was completely abstract. Having him here, in the flesh, was nothing short of traumatizing.

Still, there was no backing out now, hence the small sips of alcohol (because there was nothing wrong with a little Dutch courage in a situation like this) rather than the hefty swigs that were oh-so tempting right about now; he needed to be completely on top of his game for what was about to happen next. This was _not_ going to go badly; he wasn't about to let past experiences fuck this up for him, not this time. He just needed to march on over to where Kurt was standing and tell the boy how he felt, just like he'd planned.

Putting his glass down on a nearby surface he took a deep breath. Right, time to get this show on the road. Walking purposefully over to where Kurt was standing – where he was drinking what looked like orange juice and watching with a small smile on his face as his father said something to make the group of older men around him laugh – he waited until he was less than a foot away before giving a small cough, making sure his features were schooled into something that resembled easy charm before speaking.

“So how are you finding your first foray into Ohio's elite?”

Kurt twisted suddenly towards the sound of Sebastian's voice, clearly not having noticed anybody approaching. When he recognized Sebastian his eyes narrowed, small creases forming on his brow as he took in the sight of the boy in front of him. “What do you want, Sebastian?” he replied curtly.

Sebastian resolutely ignored the warning bells that started to fire in his head at Kurt's steely response. This was just what they did, the bitching and banter, and if it felt a bit off, well, it was probably just Sebastian projecting his nerves onto their interactions. It was fine; _he_ was fine.

“Easy there babe,” he said casually, holding up his hands to placate the other boy. “Don't bite a guy's head off for trying to make conversation. After an hour here you'll be begging for the company of somebody who's under 50.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as he observed Sebastian. It kind of felt like he was a bug under a microscope; Kurt's gaze was so piercing. “And by that I'm guessing you mean yourself?”

Sebastian shrugged, “Why not? Unless you want to spend your evening hobnobbing with sweaty-MacPaulson over there?” He nodded his head to his left, where the rotund son of Senator Paulson had cornered Sebastian's sister. Sebastian made a note to go rescue her as soon as he was done here; the younger boy was probably the most boring person Sebastian had ever had the misfortune to meet.

He watched with satisfaction as a small grin flitted across Kurt's face, only for the briefest of instants before Kurt's ice mask was back in place. Still, it was his opening, probably the best he was going to get. So Sebastian took it, taking Kurt's arm to pull him into a quiet corner and diving in, before the part of his brain that was still adamant that this was a terrible idea that would only end in another George situation could make him change his mind.

“Actually, that was kind of the reason I came over here.” Gone was the cocky bravado of a moment ago, replaced with quiet sincerity and an earnest gaze that refused to break eye contact. Their interactions were usually so full of innuendo and counter-bluffs that Sebastian couldn't risk Kurt thinking that this was simply one of _those_ conversations. He needed Kurt to realize that he was deadly serious about this. He paused for a second, and when Kurt didn't say anything, watching Sebastian in tight-lipped silence, Sebastian pressed forwards, the words tumbling from his mouth thick and fast.

“Look, I know that we're not exactly each other's usual types. Hell, I've spent most of my life trying to avoid the assholes of this town, I never _ever_ thought I'd gravitate towards somebody who walks around with a Marc Jacobs bulls-eye literally painted on his back, but I just can't help myself any more.” He paused, giving a small cough as he almost tripped over his tongue in his haste to just get it all out in the open. “And I know that everybody at Dalton will probably tell me I'm crazy, dating someone from McKinley, and my mom will probably throw an absolute fit that I'm not going after somebody destined for Harvard Law, but I can't stop thinking about you and, quite frankly, you've completely ruined all experiences at Scandals for me. So, I don't care if I'm being a hypocrite, after all the shit I've said about the single life being the only life worth living, especially to Dave, and fuck he's never going to let me hear the end of this, but honestly, I really don't care any more." He ran out of breath there and stopped to suck in a much needed inhale. "I guess - I guess what I'm trying to say is, we've been doing this dance for a while now, and I think it's time we did it properly. Officially I mean.” Sebastian let his voice trail off into nothingness; he had said his bit in what was probably the longest, most convoluted speech of his life. Now it was Kurt's turn to say something. Hopefully something reasonably short so that they could maybe skip some of the formalities and engage in some light making out and/or groping tonight. That would be acceptable right?

Kurt simply stared at Sebastian as if he had suddenly grown a second head. Sebastian couldn't help fidgeting slightly under the intensity of the gaze, but he refused to break eye contact. After what felt like the longest minute of his life Kurt shook off the hand that still grasped his arm and his lips twitched upwards in a sardonic smirk that left his eyes completely cold. “Let me make sure I've got this right. You, Sebastian Smythe, are asking me, Kurt Hummel, out on a date?”

Sebastian toyed with his cuff, dropping his gaze for just a moment. “I kind of thought that was obvious.” Crap. Everybody else made it look so easy. What had he missed?

“And that was your version of a heartfelt declaration of affection? Really?”

Sebastian scowled. Couldn't Kurt tell he was trying here? They could go back to their usual snarking in a minute, but couldn't he at least take this bit seriously? “Alright Princess, I'd like to hear your version, let's see if you can do any better.”

A short, sharp bark of laughter erupted from Kurt's throat. “Oh Sebastian, what on earth makes you think I'd ever want to ask you out?”

With that short sentence, spoken with such utter disdain, the whole world stopped turning for Sebastian. His head snapped to the left and to the right, and for the first time during their conversation he looked, really properly looked at the boy in front of him. There was none of the fire in his eyes that usually accompanied their verbal sparring, none of the looseness of his posture that showed he was engaged and at ease. This wasn't Kurt playing along, this was Kurt taking their conversation seriously, just not in the way Sebastian had expected. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, but that didn't matter anyway because Kurt was speaking again.

"Hmmm. What to say?" He paused for just a second to make sure Sebastian was listening to him before continuing. “I understand how difficult it is, especially for someone like you, to just approach somebody and put yourself out there like this, and I suppose I can respect you for having the guts to do that. And, honestly, if you were just about anybody else I would say something about you being a lovely person but that I'm just not looking for a relationship right now, let you down gently, you know? But I can't do that with you, Sebastian. I just can't, because you? You're a complete and utter asshole.”

And okay, that hurt. That hurt a lot.

Sebastian felt his whole body stiffen as Kurt's words bled into his skin, burrowing deep into his chest and making something crack inside of him. This was not how this was supposed to go. Yes, he could be a dick, but so could Kurt when he wanted to be. That was why they worked so well together, bouncing off one another without getting too offended at what the other offered up in combat. At least, that was what Sebastian had thought. Maybe he was wrong about how things were between him and Kurt. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd completely misread a situation like this.

“You know, you're not so perfect yourself, _Princess,_ ” he spat the last word, his voice completely devoid of the usual lilt of endearment that usually accompanied the term.

Kurt gave a scoff of laughter. “Yes, because I'm the effeminophobic bastard who thinks that he's God's gift to man and can't keep his God-damnnose out of _other people's relationships_.”

Sebastian frowned, caught off balance by the tangent that Kurt's attack had suddenly taken. “Wait? Is this because of David and your friend? Because I'm sorry if she got hurt, I am, but you have to understand, I was only looking out for David. I just didn't want him to get hurt by a girl who doesn't care for him as much as she should-”

“Her name. Is Mercedes.” Kurt's voice was practically trembling with barely concealed fury. “How dare you? How dare you get involved and ruin two people's lives and then try and justify it as 'looking out for your friend'? You really are a piece of work you know that?”

Sebastian knew it probably wasn't wise, given the circumstances, but he just couldn't help rolling his eyes. “Don't you think you're being a bit over dramatic? I hardly ruined their lives. They're big kids now; they'll survive.”

“Is that what you told yourself about George?”

And just like that, it felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him. How on earth had this gone so wrong, and why the hell was George now part of their conversation? He gave a furtive glance around to make sure their argument wasn't garnering attention (and thankfully everyone around them was still deep in their own conversations), before hissing, desperately “Can we - can we just leave George out of this, please Kurt?”

“Why? Does it make you feel guilty, that someone else knows how you screwed him over?” Kurt was sounding almost hysterical by this point, his voice getting higher and higher as he jabbed a finger angrily at Sebastian's chest. “You led him on, you manipulated him, you ruined his chances of going to the college of his dreams and then, if that wasn't enough after everything else you did you him, you went and broke his heart!”

Sebastian closed his eyes against the onslaught, forcing himself to breath normally, to not overreact. Kurt's accusations were bringing back so many unwanted memories he thought he might drown in them. Yes, okay, he hadn't been blameless in that relationship, but he hadn't been the only one at fault; had he? It was all such a long time ago, and he had done such a good job of blocking it from his memory, but now here Kurt was dragging up old scars, and Sebastian found he no longer had any idea what was fact and what was simply his twisted remembering of a really dark time in his life.

“That's not exactly how it went down,” he muttered, as much to himself as to Kurt, too stunned to defend himself properly. “George wasn't exactly blameless in everything either, you know.”

“Oh go on, sugar coat it, if that's what you need to do,” Kurt laughed scornfully. “You can dress it up however you want, I know the truth about you Sebastian.” He crossed his arms defiantly, as if daring Sebastian to contest what a worthless human being he really was.

And Sebastian, Sebastian was done defending himself. So completely done. People were starting to stare but he was finding it hard to care. All that mattered to him right now was himself and Kurt; everything else was wall dressing at this stage.

“You know what, fuck this,” he seethed, his voice deadly cold. “I might not be perfect but at least I can admit that I'm flawed. You stand there with that holier-than-thou smirk like you're this angel in a world full of parasites - well sorry to burst your bubble sweetheart, but nobody in this world is perfect, not even you.” He paused, chest heaving with the force of his emotion. His fists clenched and unclenched by his side as he forcibly schooled his voice into something calmer. “You know what, I almost pity you Kurt, because when you finally realize that the world isn't as black and white as you think it is you're going to fall so hard. At least I never had that. I've always known what shits people could be. You - you have a nice life, Kurt.” Without waiting for a response he spun on his heel, about to make for the door. There was something stopping him though, something still unsaid that needed to be vocalized.

He paused for a second, before turning slowly back towards Kurt. He spoke lowly, quietly, making sure every syllable was crystal clear. “Thank you, Kurt. Thank you for showing me what an idiot I was for thinking that anything could ever happen between someone like you and someone like me. I promise I won't make that mistake again.”

And then his feet were carrying him out of the room, out of that stifling building with its probing assaults that hit just a little too close to home, and away from those piercing eyes that had once been so full of excitement during their interactions but were now only filled with utter contempt.

Where had it gone so wrong? Sebastian was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question as he violently slammed his car door shut behind him, jamming his keys in the ignition and twisting them with way too much force, but he ruthlessly squashed down the single word that was swimming round his head, because George couldn't still be fucking him over, he just couldn't. Hadn't he paid his dues already, hadn't he suffered enough at that boy's hands?

When he pulled into his drive thirty minutes later he had practically exhausted himself with all the pent up emotion that was currently coursing through his body, but at least he had a plan. Maybe he and Kurt were done, maybe they would never be anything more than what they had been already had been, but he was damned if he was going to let a ghost from his past dictate his future any longer. It was time, after three long years, for the truth to come out.

He took the stairs up to his room two at a time, filled with newfound determination. He didn't even bother to switch on his overhead light as he crossed the room to his desk, opening his laptop with a definitive click that seemed very appropriate for the situation. Once it was powered up he opened a browser, took a second to compose himself, and then began to type.

* * *

Vibrating with anger got Kurt most of the way through the party; it was easily disguised as nervousness when he was forced to speak to someone, and if he sometimes answered a bit too forcefully, well, no one seemed to notice. Carole shot him the occasional quizzical glance, but other than that he thought he pulled things off pretty well, considering the inner turmoil he was feeling.

Who the hell did Sebastian Smythe think he was? Walking up, just walking up to him after everything he’d done and everything that had happened and asking him out - the bald-faced hypocrisy of it was unbelievable. And the arrogance! Sebastian had been so sure of himself, as if there was no way Kurt could ever turn him down. That was what made Kurt angriest. The implication that all Sebastian had to do was dangle his own pretty self in front of Kurt and he’d magically forget the loyalty he had to Mercedes. And George. So George wasn’t perfect, maybe he was inconsistent and flighty and maybe he and Kurt weren't a good match for one another after all. That still didn’t mean he deserved to be treated the way Sebastian had treated him.

So anger held him up through the end of the party and outside the hotel, collecting their car, settling in the back seat to listen as his dad and Carole talked about people they’d met and conversations they’d had.

They were about halfway home when the anger finally began to burn itself out and left in it’s wake was something much more problematical for Kurt.

Sebastian wanted him.

Sebastian Smythe, who never dated anyone, whose relationships lasted twenty minutes (as Kurt knew from personal experience, the angry part of his brain reminded him) had offered to put it all aside and try something he’d never done before. Just for Kurt. Despite his best efforts to stop it, Kurt found himself imagining what that would have been like. Being the one. Going out to dinner or a movie or a Dalton party. Turning heads as they walked in together. Whispers following them around rooms. Who was that guy? Who could possibly be so special that he could make Sebastian Smythe want to give up his wild ways?

But no. _No_. It didn’t matter how much of an honor it might seem (to other people, never to Kurt, there was nothing honorable about somehow winning Sebastian’s affection), Sebastian was an entitled, unprincipled asshole and Kurt had been perfectly right to reject him.

But by the time he was climbing the stairs to his room the enormity of what Sebastian had done was starting to hit him. And he was starting to regret - not saying no, definitely not, saying no had been the right thing, the only thing to do - but maybe regretting the circumstances that had forced him to say no.

By the time he opened his door and flipped on the light in his room Kurt was coming back full circle to anger. How dare Sebastian do this to him? How dare he offer himself that way, knowing that there was no way Kurt could accept? Knowing that he himself had created the situation that would keep Kurt from even considering it. How could he dangle that possibility before Kurt, letting him imagine what-ifs that were, ultimately, impossible?

Kurt flopped down on his bed. He hated this, this unsettled feeling. Feeling like he’d somehow done something wrong when he knew he hadn’t. He sort of felt like crying - wished he could cry - because at least that would be a release of some kind. Otherwise, he didn’t know what to do with the keyed-up energy that was making him feel like he needed to dance around or sing at the top of his lungs until he exhausted himself.

He was just on the verge of trying the singing thing - after all, it wasn’t like he’d never belted out Broadway standards in the wee hours of the morning - when a quiet chime from his phone told him he had an e-mail. He reached automatically for it and thumbed it on.

 _Please Read_. From Sebastian. The e-mail stared at him. He couldn’t even figure out how Sebastian had gotten his e-mail address. David, he supposed. He might have texted it to David at some point when he was trying to talk to him.

Well there was no way he was reading any e-mail from Sebastian. He opened it and immediately sent it to the trash. As it was sucked down into the little trashcan on the screen the first words impressed themselves on Kurt’s brain. _Kurt, Please don’t delete this e-mail. That’s the only . . ._

He dropped the phone onto his desk and marched resolutely away from it, into his bathroom, to get ready for bed. He wasn’t going to read the e-mail. He didn’t owe Sebastian Smythe anything. Not a single thing. No.

_Please don’t delete . . ._

Sebastian had put him in a terrible position and there was no way he was going to let him do that again, via e-mail this time. No.

_...the only..._

No.

_Kurt . . ._

With a groan he dried his face quickly on a fluffy towel and practically leapt for the phone, collapsing on the bed just as he managed to get the trash folder open.

_Kurt,_

_Please don’t delete this e-mail. That’s the only and last thing I’m going to ask of you. There’s nothing here to embarrass you, no more propositions or declarations. Believe me, I’ve learned that lesson. But you accused me of things tonight and I deserve a chance to defend myself. You owe it to me (although you probably don’t believe that) to listen. And you owe it to yourself._

_First, Mercedes. I don’t know your friend. But I know David, and I know David was falling head over heels for her. I don’t know if his family would have accepted her or not but I know he was ready to put it all on the line to find out. David is more than a friend to me and if there was a chance in hell that he was going to lose that bet you’d better believe I was going to tell him. You may not like hearing it, but to an impartial eye . . ._

Kurt laughed out loud, bitterly, at that. Yes, very impartial indeed. And Sebastian had nothing at all to gain by separating David and Mercedes. His own prejudice had nothing at all to do with it.  Kurt had been perfectly right to delete the e-mail. He should stop reading right now.

But he didn’t.

_...to an impartial eye it looked very much like she enjoyed him but wasn’t in any danger of losing her heart. If I was wrong about that, then I’m sorry. But I’ll never apologize for protecting my friend from that kind of heartbreak. Never. The only thing I regret is not taking my own advice when it came to you._

_And that brings me to George._

Kurt stopped reading again; he had to take a moment to try to understand. _Not taking my own advice when it came to you._ That sounded like Sebastian putting himself in David’s place. Like he was saying that Kurt couldn’t have cared for Sebastian the way Sebastian cared for him. Was he trying to say he might be as infatuated with Kurt as David was with Mercedes? That he should have known Kurt could never return his feelings? That was impossible. Sebastian, Sebastian was the one who’d lost his shit when Kurt said something about “next time” and who’d grabbed the first willing guy he could find to wash away the feel, the taste of Kurt. The part of pining lover didn’t and would never fit Sebastian. Was it just some kind of trick to make him feel bad?

_I don’t know what’s going on with you and George and I have no idea if you’ll even believe what I’m about to tell you, but I will not take responsibility for what he did any more. So here it is. You can do what you want with it._

_It was halfway through my freshman year at Dalton when George started to notice me. I had just turned 15, I’d just come out, and George was a senior. One of the stars of his class. I was so overwhelmed and flattered that he was paying attention to me. Everyone wanted George, and he wanted me._

_He had rules right off the bat. He wasn’t really out, so we had to keep it a secret, he said. His parents would freak out if they knew he was gay and they might pull him out of the school. That was the last thing I wanted so I agreed. We’d meet in empty classrooms, or broom closets. I lost my virginity up against the wall of the janitor’s office and I sucked cock for the first time behind the locked door of a science classroom, terrified that someone would peek in through one of the windows or bang on the door. There was one perfect weekend, just one, when his roommate went home and we stayed in his room for two whole days. I felt so grown up and so in love. I just knew that eventually he’d have the courage to come out and we could show everyone that we were together._

_It was during that weekend that George told me he needed my help. He wasn’t doing well in trigonometry, and if he couldn’t pull a decent grade he’d be out of the running for the scholarship he needed to go to OSU. I was such an idiot. I offered to help him study. Needless to say, that wasn’t what he wanted._

_You may not believe this, but I was a good kid back then. I followed the rules. I did what people expected me to. And everyone liked me. The teachers and staff loved me. It would be easy, he told me, for me to get into the office, find the teachers’ computer codes, and print out the final for his math class. Who was ever going to suspect me?_

Pressure was building in Kurt’s chest and throat and he really wanted to stop reading - to completely reject all of this as another of Sebastian’s lies. But he couldn’t figure out why Sebastian would make up something like this. He’d already said he was giving up on Kurt wanting to be with him. There was no need to spin him a story about a guy he wasn’t even seeing any more.

_He played me like a fucking violin. How much he needed my help. That I was the only one he could trust. That if he lost out on the scholarship God knows where he’d end up after he graduated. Maybe in another state. We’d never be able to be together. And of course, I remember this one was literally while I was on my knees between his legs blowing him, if I loved him I’d be willing to do whatever it took to prove that. I knew, maybe not consciously but I'm sure that at that moment I knew what he was doing because I nearly vomited; I had to run to the bathroom for water and to try and collect myself. And he was just pissed because he didn’t get to finish._

_But I did it. Of course I did. I needed to believe that he really wanted me and I guess somewhere I knew that if I didn’t do what he asked we’d be over. I snuck into the office when most of the secretaries were at lunch. I found the codes in a desk drawer. I printed the test._

_I got caught, of course. It never occurred to me that a school like Dalton had security cameras and other ways of protecting themselves against things like this. I still want to think that it never occurred to George either. He’s an asshole, but for whatever stupid reason I like to think that he didn’t knowingly send me in to get caught. But that’s what happened. Then there were meetings, my parents were called in, talk of expulsion. The one thing they couldn’t figure out, though, was why I’d stolen a test for a class I wasn’t even in. They hung that one in front of me like a carrot. They offered to just suspend me if I told them who’d asked me for the test. My parents insisted that I tell. But I never did. I was just stupid enough to think that as long as I didn’t betray him, George might still want me. And just stupid enough to hope that he’d come forward and save me._

Tears were welling in Kurt’s eyes, because he saw George clearly now, he understood what he’d said to Sebastian, the real impact of the accusations he’d hit him with. How could he have misunderstood so completely? He’d been right where Sebastian had been - letting George pull the wool over his eyes. Except he was a senior, Sebastian had been a freshman, newly out and so young. It wasn’t fair. Kurt had been bullied plenty, but his tormentors were obvious, jocks in letter jackets with sneering faces. There were no implications between them and no emotional betrayal. What Sebastian had been through - Kurt wasn’t sure he could have survived it.

_In the end, it was David who saved me. David was the only person who knew everything. My one confidante. He begged me to tell them about George but I wouldn’t. So he did it for me. He barged right into a meeting between my parents and the dean and told them everything. When I found out, I attacked him. I screamed at him, called him a traitor and worse. I didn’t speak to him for months. And he took it. Somehow he got that I was taking all the anger I had for George out on him. And he let me. And later, when I came crawling back to apologize and beg him to forgive me, he just told me that’s what friends do. And that’s why I will always protect David in any way I can. Always. Even if it means hurting your friend._

_Even after David’s big confession I refused to back him up and name George. I don’t even know, at that point, if I still had some shred of hope that he’d still want me or if it was just stubborn pride. Without my word they couldn’t pin it all on him, but my parents threw their weight around enough to hammer out a deal. I wouldn’t be suspended or expelled, my record would stay clean, but I would “withdraw” from the school for two years. My parents agreed to send me away, as long as I could come back for my senior year and still have the prestige of having graduated from Dalton Academy. I don’t know who had the bright idea of just having George take a different trig test, but of course he failed it and lost out on his scholarship. I guess at that point they knew he must have cheated on the first one. I don’t know if they ever put it in his record. By then I was in Paris and I wasn’t speaking to David yet so I didn’t have any source of information. I tried to talk to him once before I left but he just walked away from me, completely cold. And that was when I knew that’s all it had ever been about. I mean yeah, he probably enjoyed having his own little willing sex toy, but the real point had been that test. After that I never saw George again. Until I turned around and found you smiling at him at that stupid party._

Kurt couldn’t breathe. It was all hitting him at once, like a brick to the head. How stupid he’d been. How very, very far out on a limb Sebastian had gone for him. Coming over that very first night, when he didn’t have to, facing down George just to make sure Kurt was okay. All the things he’d ridiculed Sebastian for, his promiscuity, his attitude, were things George had taught him. Defenses he’d built up when he was just fifteen, _fifteen_ , to protect him from ever being hurt like that again.

And then he’d put all of that aside, everything he’d learned to be, for Kurt. To offer himself. The chance he’d taken - and Kurt had thrown it all back in his face.

_I don’t expect you to believe me. I know you think I lie as easily as I breathe (and that’s probably true), but David knows everything and I’m going to tell him that I told you so if you really need to you can ask him. If that’s what it’s going to take to keep you away from George._

_And don’t worry. You won’t hear from me again. Believe me, I’ve learned that lesson. Now we can both go back to the way we were before, thank God, and forget any of this insanity ever happened. I meant what I said tonight, Kurt. Thank you. For reminding me of things I swore I would never forget._

_Sebastian_

Kurt buried his head in his pillow and sobbed. Sobbed at the images in his head, pictures of what had been, what could have been, what would never be. Sebastian had said he pitied Kurt for the fall he would take when he realized what people were capable of. But this fall was so much worse. Kurt knew how awful people could be. He’d lived it. Not in the exact same way as Sebastian, but he had.  But he’d never suspected how awful he himself could be. He’d never suspected that anyone could care about him enough that he could hurt him so casually, with hardly a thought. That he could destroy any chance they might have had before he’d even realized it had existed. And for that he cried.

And then, when tears were finally done, he picked up his phone again. He didn’t care that it was well after midnight. If he didn’t answer, well, then he’d wake up in the morning to one hell of a message.

Not Sebastian. He couldn’t call Sebastian. He knew as surely as he knew anything that that was over. For Sebastian to make an offer like that, against every instinct he had, and be shot down? Kurt knew that there was no coming back from that. Sebastian was lost to him.

But he could call George.


	9. Chapter 9

“New York?” Kurt looked from the printed itinerary in his hand to his father’s smiling face and back again.

“Well, I have to go meet with some people from the party, so I thought it’d be great to take a little trip, just the two of us. You know, before you...fall out of the nest or whatever Carole would call it. We can visit NYADA, see some sights, maybe go to a show?”

Kurt’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”

Burt shrugged. “Why not? I think I might have a connection or two who could get us some pretty nice seats.”

Inside Kurt’s head, excitement was doing battle with practicality. “But...school?”

Burt clapped Kurt on the shoulder. “C’mon. You’ve been working hard. You can miss a couple of days. What do you think?”

Kurt thought that this might be exactly what he needed. Over the past few weeks, life had gone completely and depressingly back to normal, and everything felt a little gray after the intensity that had gone before. The brief, crazy period of New Directions' intersection with the rarified air of Dalton Academy was over and, it seemed, forgotten. Everyone had returned to the routine of glee club practices and homework and studying and college applications. And if Kurt sometimes tortured himself late at night watching Warbler videos on YouTube, well, he knew for a fact he wasn't doing it as often as Mercedes.

At least he had that last phone conversation with George to relive whenever he needed entertainment. He'd taken out every ounce of his anger and frustration and outraged sense of fair play on George's stunned, sleepy ass and he'd loved it. By the time George woke up enough to get angry himself Kurt was done, signing off with a curt "Stay away from me and stay away from Sebastian" and hanging up on George mid-sentence.

A few weeks after that disastrous night, Kurt and Rachel had gotten the letters notifying them that they were NYADA finalists. That was a sign, he told himself, that it was time to stop dwelling on everything that might have been with Sebastian and start thinking about his future. So maybe a trip with his dad was exactly what he needed to jumpstart the rest of his life. He and his dad in the big city, creating new memories in his future home. A place with no reminders of Sebastian to trip him up.

He grinned at his dad. “I think we’re going to New York!

They flew to New York on a Wednesday, and on Thursday they visited the NYADA campus. Kurt fell immediately and completely in love with the dark paneled dance studios with their huge windows and the acoustically perfect performance spaces. But even more than the beautiful buildings, he was overwhelmed by the students - pacing hallways singing warm-up scales and stretching outside classrooms; he stood for several minutes watching with alarm as a pair of students argued loudly in a courtyard, wondering why no one came to separate them, before he realized that they were practicing a scene for a drama class. He almost cried then - acting and singing and dancing, all the things that were ridiculed so roundly at McKinley, were these students’ daily lives, morning to night. It made him want more than ever to be a part of it all.

Friday they did the city. Kurt dragged his dad from the top of the Empire State Building to the feet of the Statue of Liberty. They bought t-shirts and caps and souvenir magnets and generally acted like the most stereotypical of mid-western tourists. By the end of the day Kurt had a bag full of silly knick-knacks for his friends at home and Burt had collected more kitschy presents than Carole was going to know what to do with.

That night Kurt saw his very first Broadway play, Wicked, of course. Burt, who would never have used his position as a Congressman for his own benefit, had no problem making sure Kurt had orchestra seats for his favorite musical and a chance to go backstage and meet the cast after the show. Incredible didn’t even begin to describe it.

Saturday morning Burt had meetings, and Kurt had one last thing he needed to do before they went home the next day. His dad offered to go with him, if he wanted to wait, but this was something Kurt felt he needed to do alone, and Burt understood. He boarded the A train, heading north, feeling at the same time both very adult and very much like a little boy.

* * *

“Another interesting thing to note about most of these paintings is that the Christ child, although clearly meant to be an infant, is presented with the anatomical proportions of an adult, rather than those of a baby. He also shows an awareness of his surroundings beyond that of an infant. This was an artist’s way of indicating . . .”

“That he was a midget in disguise?” Sebastian whispered in his mother’s ear. She elbowed him sharply but he caught the chuckle she suppressed before she managed to pull her face into a disapproving severity.

“I’m trying to listen,” she whispered back.

“Whatever floats your boat,” Sebastian sighed. He was usually okay with museums, but apparently the Cloisters was exactly what it sounded like - a place for people with nothing better to do than to think about God. The droning guide himself had said that was pretty much the only thing Medieval people made art about. And he was doing nothing to make it any more interesting.

“It’s especially important to note, in this painting, the way the light seems to emit from the child’s face. This technique was . . .”

He really couldn’t be expected to listen to any more of this. While the group’s attention was focused raptly on the tiny detail the guide was pointing out, he slipped through a doorway into another room and began searching for “Exit” signs. If he was lucky he’d find his way to the cafe and could at least check his e-mail and play Angry Birds over a cup of terrible coffee. His mom would text him if she couldn’t find him. God bless modern technology.

He followed the signs through three more rooms, all full of the requisite Madonna and Child or Crucifixion paintings (and shit, could those Medieval artists think up some gruesome ways to depict death) before a huge splash of color caught his eye and he turned from the exit path, just for a moment, to peek into what turned out to be a large gallery with walls covered completely by hangings - tapestries of some kind. Even he could admit they were pretty, and there were benches in the room, and it was quieter than the cafeteria would be; there was only one other person, sitting and staring at one of the panels. Sebastian was just resolving to hang out here until his mom caught up with him when the other person sighed and shifted in a way that was hauntingly familiar.

He really looked, then, at the straight-backed figure, the perfect posture, the beautifully cut shirt, the light brown hair close-cropped against the nape of his neck...Sebastian had to stifle a groan because he really thought he’d finally gotten over the stage where he saw _him_ everywhere he looked, picked him out in crowds where he didn’t exist, caught glimpses of him turning corners. No. He’d completely put Kurt behind him and there was no way that was him, sitting here in a museum, in New York, staring at a picture of a unicorn.

Except he was pretty sure it was.

He should have simply walked away, powered on ahead to the cafeteria with its wifi and terrible coffee. But he could already feel the pull, like a magnet, and he was moving closer instead, coming around the end of the bench, staring as that face inevitably slid more and more into view. He didn’t believe in fate, but this was one hell of a coincidence.

“Kurt?”

Kurt jumped a little, turned sharply, and finally there were his eyes, blue, blue eyes opening wide in surprise, brimming just a little with tears.

“Sebastian?”

Tears. Fuck. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” Sebastian fumbled, “I . . . I’ll leave you alone . . .”

“Don’t go!” Kurt voice was louder than it should have been in the quiet room. He sounded almost desperate. Which didn’t make sense but when Sebastian turned back to him Kurt was standing up, wiping at his eyes and smiling. “I mean, unless you want to.”

“No, no I just, I don’t want to interrupt . . .”

“You’re not.” Kurt moved further down the bench and sat again, still smiling an invitation. Sebastian sat next to him, keeping a careful distance between them.

For a minute it was just silence. There were a hundred things Sebastian knew he should say. _What brings you to New York? I never knew you were a fan of Medieval art._ Tons of stupid, inane things that he couldn’t imagine actually leaving his mouth with Kurt sitting next to him, getting weepy over a tapestry. But the things he really wanted to say were completely out of the question. And the longer he sat in silence the more likely it was that he was going to blurt out one of them.

“So,” he finally said, waving his hand at the unicorns decorating the walls, “this is stereotypical even for you.”

He regretted it as soon as he said it, but Kurt laughed, loud and unexpected, and his hand flew to his mouth to stifle it. And shit, was that endearing or what? No. Not endearing, Sebastian told himself firmly. It couldn’t be, not any more.

Kurt’s other hand, the one not currently touching those lips, reached out to offer something to Sebastian.

It was a locket, sort of, but the front was open filigree and Sebastian could see through it to the picture on the back. At first all he saw was the tiny photo, a pretty woman and a young boy who already had the perfectly arched eyebrows that could only belong to Kurt Hummel. It took him a minute to realize that the front of the locket was a golden reproduction of the tapestry in front of them. A white unicorn kneeling in a tiny enclosure, surrounded by trees and flowers.

“It’s beautiful,” was all he said as he handed it back. But that made Kurt smile, so it was enough.

“It was my mother’s.”

“Was?”

Kurt wasn’t looking at him any more; he was staring down at the necklace in his hand. “She died when I was eight,” he said simply.

“Oh God, I’m sorry...”

Kurt looked up then, and Sebastian was afraid he’d be crying again but his eyes were dry and he was still smiling, if a little sadly. He was struck by the thought that the one person he’d ever felt inclined to take care of was probably stronger than he was. That had to be some kind of fucked up karma. Which he didn't believe in either.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” Kurt held the necklace up for a second, letting it dangle in front of them, and they both just stared at it. “She found it in her grandparents’ attic in Chicago, when she was a little girl. Nobody knew where it came from so she made up a story that it had belonged to a beautiful rich lady, some railroad baron’s wife or something. She said it always made her feel special when she wore it.” He wrapped the locket up in his hand again and stared at the tapestry in front of them.

Sebastian wished he could think of something to say, anything. He’d imagined running into Kurt a hundred times but the conversation in his head had never included dead mothers and unicorns, and God if there was anything he sucked at more than providing sympathetic comfort he had yet to encounter it. If this was a rom com he’d be ducking out to the bathroom to text David for instructions.

“She didn’t find out till she was grown up that the picture was from these tapestries.” Kurt was still talking, which was good, if Kurt was talking then Sebastian didn’t have to. “She always wanted to come here to see them, but she never had the chance. I came along and then my dad was trying to get the shop started . . . they were actually planning a trip, things were going really well and they thought I was old enough . . . but then she got sick.” He looked down again at the locket in his hand, the picture inside. “It went really fast, so we never did manage to bring her here. And I didn’t have time when we were here for Nationals, but I did it, this time. Finally.”

Sebastian didn’t even think about it; his brain really had nothing to do with it at all. His hand just reached over and settled against the back of Kurt’s, fingers curling under his palm, and it was awkward and wrong because Kurt was still holding the locket, it pressed between them and he should really just let go, but then Kurt’s fingers were curling in turn around his, holding on, clutching, and there was no way Sebastian was going anywhere.

* * *

They just sat, holding hands, for what felt like the longest time. Kurt kept waiting for Sebastian to realize what he’d done and pull away, disappear with some mumbled apologies or excuses, but instead they sat. He wondered if Sebastian was even aware that he was slowly caressing the back of Kurt’s hand with his thumb.

“So what’s the story here?” Sebastian finally asked, and Kurt’s heart jumped with fear because he didn’t know - he wasn’t the one who’d reached for Sebastian’s hand - but then he realized that Sebastian was looking around at the walls. He was asking about the tapestries.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Well, it’s a hunt,” he said quietly, pointing out the panels with his free hand. “See - the hunters try to catch the unicorn, but he gets away. So then they bring in a virgin --”

“Ah, that old trick,” Sebastian said, smiling wryly at Kurt.

“And the unicorn goes to the virgin and he’s captured.”

Sebastian’s head turned to the next panel. “But then they kill him. That’s how it ends?”

“No, this one is the last panel,” Kurt said, nodding at the one in front of them. “The unicorn comes back to life.”

Sebastian groaned. “So this is just like everything else here - some big religious allegory or something?”

“Some people think so. I think it’s about love.”

They were both staring straight ahead now, at the pure white unicorn in front of them, and the only movement between them was Sebastian’s still-stroking thumb.

“You get trapped by a virgin then you die?” Sebastian guessed.

“That love can destroy you. But it can also bring you back to life.”

Kurt had danced with Sebastian, had kissed him and ground against him, been blown by him and stroked his dick, but it still felt like the biggest and most intimate step he’d ever taken to simply let his own thumb move like Sebastian’s, stroking gently along the side of his palm and little finger, and he could tell by the quick, tiny gasp that Sebastian felt it too.

“Kurt, I...”

“Sebastian?” A female voice called out, loud in the silent room, and Sebastian dropped his hand and jumped up so fast that Kurt, for a crazy, fleeting moment, half expected to turn around and find that he’d interrupted a date. But when he got up he found a beautifully, impeccably tailored but older woman, Sebastian’s mother maybe, or an aunt?

“Did you get lost?” the woman asked and her sharp but so far kind eyes moved swiftly from Sebastian to Kurt, as though she was trying to figure out exactly what was going on here. _You and me both_ , Kurt thought.

“I did not. I very deliberately ditched you,” Sebastian said, but he sounded just a little contrite.

The woman frowned but Kurt could tell she was also amused.

“Come on, Mom. I couldn’t take one more bared virgin breast. And those little pinching fingers...” Sebastian turned to Kurt and shuddered dramatically.

“And you found a friend,” Sebastian’s mother prompted him.

“This is Kurt,” Sebastian’s voice went quiet and serious, it was almost comical after the drama of his previous statement. “Kurt, this is my mom.”

She held out her hand, so Kurt reached over the bench and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Smythe.”

“Oh, please, Irene.” She smiled and leaned a bit closer to Kurt. He could see now where Sebastian got his sparkling green eyes. “I hate Smythe. What is it, really, but a snobby version of Smith?” She lifted her delicate shoulders in a shrug. “But I married it, so I’m stuck.”

Kurt wasn’t sure how to react to that, but Sebastian laughed so he did too, just a little. Mrs. Smythe looked again from her son to Kurt and back. “So did you two just meet or . . .?”

“I know Kurt from glee club,” Sebastian said quickly.

“Oh, do you go to Dalton too?”

“Rival glee clubs, actually,” Sebastian jumped in again. Kurt wondered what he was afraid Kurt was going to say. “Kurt goes to McKinley High. In Lima.”

“And what are you doing here in New York, Kurt?”

Kurt raised his eyebrows at Sebastian - he almost expected him to answer that too. When Sebastian didn’t seem inclined to do so he said, “My dad had some meetings this weekend and he brought me for a college visit.”

“Kurt’s dad is Burt Hummel,” Sebastian supplied.

“The congressman?” Mrs. Smythe asked. Kurt nodded. Mrs. Smythe smiled, “Well great minds must think alike. Tim and I brought Sebastian for a college visit too. He just got his early acceptance to Columbia.” She said it with such pride that it made Kurt smile.

“Mom,” Sebastian pleaded. Kurt could have sworn he saw a blush color Sebastian’s cheeks and he couldn’t help cocking a questioning eyebrow at him. Sebastian smiled at him almost - bashfully? - and Kurt had to take a moment to wonder what planet he’d been transported to where Sebastian took his hand so casually, and blushed, and introduced Kurt to his mom.

“Wow, Columbia. That’s impressive.”

Sebastian shrugged and stared off at one of the tapestries. “I write a good essay.”

“So I’ve seen.”

Sebastian’s gaze flew back to Kurt and he looked like he couldn’t quite figure out what Kurt meant by that comment. Something strange was crackling between them and Kurt really wanted to try to figure out what it was but Mrs. Smythe was still happily chattering, asking Kurt what school he’d been visiting, where he and his dad were staying, and, upon discovering that they were staying in an adjacent hotel, insisting that Kurt share their cab back, if he was done with his museum visit.

So they all made for the exit together, Sebastian and Kurt on either side of Mrs. Smythe, who kept up the conversation all on her own as the two boys exchanged furtive, appraising glances. They retrieved their jackets from the coat check and Sebastian flagged down a cab in front of the museum.

Kurt had a moment of panic about how they’d sit in the cab - should he get in first so that Sebastian could decide if he wanted to sit next to him or not? - but Sebastian saved him by holding the door open and gesturing to his mom with a haughty “My lady.” He stood by the door, even after she was in, so Kurt followed, settling next to Mrs. Smythe. The cab seemed full of the buttery smell of her gorgeous leather coat, at least until Sebastian climbed in, his long limbs taking up every bit of available space, and then all of Kurt’s senses were completely overwhelmed by him.

Sebastian kept a few careful inches between their bodies, but he draped an arm across the back of the seat and Kurt was acutely aware that it would only take a tiny shift for him to be leaning into Sebastian’s hard torso; he could imagine that arm coming down around him, the long fingers that had been wrapped around his in the gallery stroking over his shoulder.

Words were spoken, he knew, on the trip back to the hotel, and some of them by him, but he couldn’t have said what they were. His entire being was concentrated on not sinking into the embrace that Sebastian was (unconsciously, he was sure) offering. Sebastian was too close and there was too much uncertainty between them and by the time they pulled up in front of the Smythes’ hotel Kurt’s head was swimming in a way he definitely didn’t like.

The exited the cab in reverse, except Sebastian, after clambering out himself, offered his hand to Kurt. Kurt had no choice but to take it; Sebastian pulled gently to help him out of the car and his fingers tightened briefly, so very briefly that Kurt thought he might have imagined it, before he let go and offered the same service to his mother.

Kurt made the quickest of thank yous and goodbyes - he needed to get away from Sebastian before he did something stupid - and turned to walk the block back to his own hotel. But he hadn’t gotten three steps when Sebastian called after him.

“I’ll walk back with you,” he said, falling into step with Kurt.

“It’s only a block.”

“Well, you know, it is New York. Can’t be too careful. You’re definitely mugger bait.” Sebastian grinned at him and Kurt knew he should have had a witty comeback for that but his brain was far too busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on. So they walked in silence, slowly, dragging out that one block as long as possible but neither, it seemed, willing to use that time to say anything of consequence. And all the way Kurt’s hand tingled with the ghostly reminder of being clasped in Sebastian’s.

“So this is where I get off,” Kurt said finally when they reached his building and uniformed doormen opened twin glass doors for him.

Sebastian’s eyes burned into his, but all he said was, “Well, enjoy the rest of your trip.” He stood for a moment, like he was waiting for something, but finally sighed a little and said, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

And he turned and walked away. Just like that.

“Sebastian!” Kurt hadn’t made any conscious decision to call him back, he’d just realized, looking at that straight back walking away, that if he let Sebastian go now he might never get another chance.

Sebastian turned back.

“I’m not doing anything tonight, I mean, if you’re...you probably have plans with your family but, you know, if you don’t then maybe we could...hang out, or...”

There was a very unpleasant moment where Kurt felt completely naked standing there on the sidewalk stammering, but then Sebastian took pity on him, lips quirking up in a smile that looked decidedly superior.

“Wait, are you, Kurt Hummel, asking me, Sebastian Smythe, out on a date?”

The irony of that statement, after their last encounter, was not lost on Kurt, but Sebastian’s green eyes were full of humor and his phrasing felt more like a gentle reminder than any kind of admonishment. “I guess I am,” he said. “And I know what I deserve, after the way I treated you, but I thought maybe we could put that behind us and, I don’t know, start over?”

Sebastian, it seemed, wasn’t above enjoying making Kurt squirm just a bit, and he held a nice, long, dramatic beat before leaning closer to Kurt to say, “One condition.”

Kurt’s heart leapt. “What?”

“I get to plan it. You just put on something outrageous and meet me down here at 7:30.”

The oh-so-familiar challenge was back in Sebastian’s eyes and Kurt couldn’t help smiling in the face of it. “And I don’t even get a hint about what we’re doing?”

Sebastian shook his head slowly. “That’s the deal, sweetheart. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it.” There wasn’t even a split-second of hesitation in Kurt’s response.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened and for a minute there wasn’t anyone else on the sidewalk but them. Then, without another word, he simply turned around and headed back to his end of the block.

Kurt viciously stifled the impulse to bounce as he marched past the doormen, through the lobby, and up in the elevator to his room. This was not a time for celebration. There were things he had to think about, consequences he had to weigh, choices to be made.

Several hours, one phone call to his dad, a supply run to a nearby pharmacy, and least four internal mind-changing debates later, Kurt’s choice was very eloquently summed up by the aubergine leather pants reflected back at him in the mirror on the back of his bathroom door. Pants so tight that pulling up the zipper left him a little breathless. If the jeans he’d worn to the Dalton party said “I’ll fuck you,” as Sebastian had put it, then these pants, which he’d thrown in his garment bag on a whim, really, because New York was the only place he _could_ wear something like this, screamed “I’ll take you apart, own you, make you feel things you never knew you could feel. And then let you do the same thing to me.”

Kurt straightened his skinny tie and pulled a short jacket on over his tailored white shirt. He knew Sebastian was thinking one of two things. Either he still wanted to try and date, or he was planning to, as Matthew had so eloquently described it, fuck Kurt and get it out of his system. And his afternoon of soul-searching had led Kurt to the conclusion that he was totally okay with either of those scenarios. Oh, there was no doubt that he wanted it to be the first one; the idea of Sebastian as his boyfriend did all kinds of crazy things to Kurt’s insides that he couldn’t afford to have happening in these painted-on pants. But if it was just sex, just tonight, well he could live with that too. The last time, at the Dalton party, had been surprising and frantic and completely mind-blowing, and if what he came away with tomorrow was a memory of one night of slow exploration, murmurs and moans and breaking new territory, luxuriating in the feel of Sebastian’s body against his, well, he could handle that. More than that, he wanted it. He wanted so much more, but where Sebastian was concerned he was ready to take what he could get.

So tonight, he thought as he made his way back to the elevator at 7:28, he was going to be confident and sexy and show Sebastian Smythe exactly what he could expect with Kurt Hummel as a boyfriend. He was going to touch when he wanted to touch, flirt when he wanted to flirt. Kiss when he wanted to kiss. Tonight he was going to be Cinderella at the ball, making his own dreams come true.

Sebastian was waiting in the lobby when the elevator doors opened, his back to them, casually watching the fish float back and forth in the giant tank that separated the lobby area from the lounge.

“Do you come here often?"

Sebastian turned, eyebrows raised, clearly ready to excoriate Kurt's pitiful attempt at a pick-up line, but halfway round his eyes fell on the pants and his expression went from sarcastic to slack-jawed astonishment so fast Kurt had to suppress a laugh.

"Holy shit, Kurt!"

"Is this outrageous enough for you?" Kurt asked innocently.

Sebastian's eyes dragged back and forth from Kurt's crotch to his eyes. "If I asked you to turn around," he said, his voice hoarse in a way that made Kurt's stomach flutter, "is there any chance you'd actually do it?"

Kurt did a pirouette in slow motion. He could almost hear Sebastian’s brain register that there was no way he could have fit underwear inside that tight leather.

"Holy shit," Sebastian said again, weakly this time, and Kurt had to stifle the urge to giggle. He was pretty sure that giggling would totally destroy the "I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name" vibe the pants were creating.

“Is that all you can say?” Kurt asked, when they were face-to-face again.

“I’m trying to remember why we’re even leaving this hotel. Room service sounds pretty fucking good right now.”

But despite the come-on line, Kurt could tell he’d knocked Sebastian for a serious loop. This was definitely not what he’d been expecting from a date with Kurt Hummel, and Kurt liked that. It made him feel powerful and that made him bold.

“Well you know what they say,” he said, stepping closer to Sebastian and issuing a challenge of his own. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Then he walked away toward the main doors, giving his hips just a tiny wiggle. When Sebastian didn’t follow immediately he paused, and looked back over his shoulder in what he was sure was an outrageously flirtatious way. But he didn’t even care.

“Or don’t you think this is worth the wait?”

Sebastian moved fast then, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist and side-stepping the doorman so that he could open one of the doors for Kurt himself. “Believe me, sweetheart,” he whispered as they stepped out onto the crowded sidewalk, “I know it is.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

All things considered - Sebastian thought to himself as he watched Kurt laugh and shimmy along with one of the many street-performers peppering the paths of Central Park - popping his dating-cherry had been a hell of a lot less traumatic than he had originally anticipated.

Of course, it hadn't felt that way when he had left Kurt's hotel earlier that day, head swimming with the slightly foggy realization that he was going to go on an actual, proper date with Kurt Hummel, that after everything that had gone down between them Kurt still wanted him, in some context that he wasn't completely sure of yet, and that for some unknown reason _he_ had insisted on planning their evening antics.

Well, it wasn't exactly unknown, maybe more unwilling-to-admit-to-being-known, if that was even a thing. Sebastian had always assumed that dating just wasn't going to be a facet of his life because, let’s face it, he wasn't exactly the marriage and 2.5 children type, and given his first and only experience of love so far, it had been fairly easy for him to swear off this whole commitment lark as unnecessary hassle.

But that had been before Kurt.

Kurt, with his bright laugh and easy smile, made the elusive appeal of that 'special somebody' reignite in Sebastian's chest, stirring embers he thought had long ago turned to ashes. Kurt, whose painted-on pants that would look ridiculous on anyone but him, who was dancing on a sidewalk with such abandon, like New York or maybe Sebastian himself was breaking a spell cast by a lifetime of Lima, Ohio, made Sebastian want to be better than 20-minute hookups in a seedy stall of some back-alley club. He had no idea what Kurt wanted from tonight; whether he was just looking for a night of fun in New York, or a chance to soothe his conscience about the last time they talked, or maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same thing as Sebastian, but Sebastian knew that Kurt was special, that there were probably very few others in this big wide world that would make him want to give up the safety of his commitment-free ways and take a chance on having something more.

Well, whatever the reason, you only had one “first” date, and Sebastian was damned if he wasn't going to get the classic experience, with all available bells and whistles.

When he had called up the swankiest restaurant within walking distance of their two hotels (throwing his dad's name around just a little to ensure a table at such short notice) he had briefly tried to convince himself that he was just doing this for Kurt, to prove that he could be the perfect boyfriend, that he wasn't the sarcastic asshole he had been accused of being by Kurt and oh-so many others before him. But when he felt the warm bubble of happiness threaten to erupt out of his chest the second he put the phone down he knew that really, he was being entirely selfish. He wanted this so badly, the perfect date with the perfect boy, and it looked like tonight would be the night it actually happened.

Of course, the wide-eyed excitement on Kurt's face when Sebastian had casually mentioned that they would be dining at Jean Georges had definitely been one of the highlights of the evening. He liked seeing the usually reserved boy so unashamedly enthusiastic. He liked that he was the one to make it happen.

Their conversation throughout the most of the night had been free and easy, with the pair striking up their usual snarky banter almost immediately. But now that Kurt had unexpectedly decided to go all vampy on him their words were laced with layer upon layer of flirty subtext, and Sebastian could feel this blood humming in his veins during their lightning-quick back and forth; it was honestly the ultimate aphrodisiac. Well, that and the way that Kurt's leg kept not-so-accidentally brushing against his underneath the table. Talk about playing dirty.

There had only been one slight awkward moment during the whole meal, when Sebastian's curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue throughout the starter and main course. While they were waiting for the shared cheesecake that in Kurt's words "looks absolutely to die for, oh my God", the words fell from his lips without him really thinking.

"So I'm guessing you talked to David then?"

Kurt frowned, cocking his head to the side as he considered Sebastian’s words. "Actually no I haven't, what makes you say that?"

Sebastian shrugged, looking down and playing with his cutlery as he tried to quash the blush starting to rise on his cheeks. "Well, you're here aren't you?"

He heard a soft sigh from Kurt, and then a hand reached out to cover his, forcing his hand back to the table and away from the sharp utensils that he had been toying with. "I didn't need to talk to David to know that you were telling the truth, and I'm...I’m so, so sorry, for everything I said at that stupid party and for everything that bastard did you-"

Sebastian laughed a dry, humourless laugh, forcing himself to paste on his usual confident expression as he looked back up at Kurt. "You live and you learn right? I'll never get played like that again. And don't worry sweetheart, you didn't break me with your diva meltdown in front of Ohio’s elite. I guess that's one good thing to come out of everything that happened with George.” When Kurt's brow crinkled in confusion, obviously not understanding how anything regarding George could possibly be good, Sebastian gave a small shrug. “So I got used and abused by some dick who was only interested in me for my mouth and my ability to work a printer. At least now I know how to stop myself from letting other people hurt me. I don't know about you but I think that's a pretty important life skill.”

His cocky exterior started to crack, however, when Kurt continued to look like he could see right through Sebastian's blasé attitude, and like whatever he saw broke his heart. He gave a soft huff, and found himself twisting his hand so that he could clasp Kurt's in his. “I'm sorry, I guess my way of dealing with all this crap is to shut people out and act like I don't care. I’m really happy that you’re here…and by you I mean those pants of course."

Kurt smiled hesitantly, recognizing Sebastian’s comment for what it was and clearly torn between allowing Sebastian to change the subject to more fun topics of conversation and not wanting to let such a self-deprecating statement go untouched. Luckily, it was at that moment that their dessert arrived, and they both couldn't help but be distracted by the truly incredible delicacy in front of them.

“Well, if it helps, I called him, after I read your e-mail. George, I mean. And I may have sort of torn him a new one,” Kurt replied, almost bashfully, before grabbing his spoon and hurriedly devoting all his attention to cheesecake.

And funnily enough, it did help. It really did.

There had to be some sort of irony to it - Sebastian thought to himself as he played back the dinner part of their date in his head while smiling and waving away Kurt's attempts to get him to join in with his horribly embarrassing public dancing - that even though Kurt had spent the majority of the evening teasing Sebastian mercilessly with long, extravagant licks of his spoon after every mouthful of food, and multiple trips to the bathroom complete with a saunter that was positively _evil_ , it had been the pure, unadulterated groan of bliss that escaped from his lips on that first taste of that cheesecake, so completely wrapped up in his own enjoyment and unaware of just how damn sexy he sounded, that had Sebastian not-so-subtly pressing his palm into his crotch in what had to be the least perfect boyfriend move ever.

“Come on, Seb, dance with me,” Kurt exclaimed, grabbing Sebastian’s hand and trying to get him to twirl as the guitarist on the sidewalk struck up a tune that Sebastian thought was supposed to be “I'm a Believer”, but he wasn't entirely sure.

Sebastian laughingly obliged, spinning underneath Kurt's raised arm somewhat awkwardly. “We look like idiots,” he mumbled half-heartedly, fairly sure Kurt wasn't going to let him get out of this one no matter what he said.

“Speak for yourself, I look incredible,” Kurt replied with a smirk, rolling his hips suggestively and laughing when Sebastian didn't even try to suppress his groan of appreciation. Snaking his arm out to grab at Kurt's waist he dragged the other boy closer so that they were face-to-face, mere millimeters apart. Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Kurt's warm breath flutter across his cheek, and he was suddenly very aware of how easy it would be to just tip forward and close that tiny gap between them, press his lips to that soft, delectable Cupid's bow that he knew tasted so damn good.

And if the way that Kurt's hands came to lock behind his neck was any indication, he would definitely not have objected in the slightest.

Except Sebastian was pretty confident that if he let himself dip down and take what he wanted, then the next step would be full-on grinding in front of this poor busker, and that was definitely not perfect boyfriend on perfect date material. He had a plan, and he was going to stick to it, damn it.

Drawing away with what seemed like an unbelievable amount of effort he raised an eyebrow and nodded over Kurt's shoulder. “How about we take a horse-and-carriage ride?”

He thought he heard Kurt huff with frustration, but the boy turned obligingly in Sebastian's arms, giving a small snort of laughter when his gaze fell on the white carriage parked up by the hot-dog stand. “Are you _trying_ to use every cliché in the book?” he asked curiously, twisting back around and pressing in closer to Sebastian's suddenly over-warm body, grinding his hips like the sadist that he clearly was.

Sebastian gave a small shrug, desperately trying to keep his brain away from the thought of Kurt's cock rubbing at his leg through just two measly layers of fabric. _PerfectBoyfriendPerfectBoyfriend PerfectBoyfriend._ “I figured they're clichés for a reason. I kind of wanted to see what the fuss was all about, but if you don't want to-”

“I think it's a great idea,” Kurt cut him off, his voice soft and earnest, and Sebastian was pretty sure he understood why Sebastian wanted, no _needed_ , to indulge in a paint-by-numbers New York first date. He stepped away from Sebastian's embrace and held out his hand for the other boy to take, the ultimate picture of gentlemanly respectability. But when they started to walk side-by-side over toward the cart he leant in close, so that he could whisper quietly for Sebastian's ears alone. “But for the record, that’s not exactly the kind of ride I was planning on taking tonight.”

Sebastian choked on air, looking at Kurt with wide eyes. Kurt raised an eyebrow challengingly, clearly loving the way he had Sebastian completely off guard, and Sebastian couldn't help but laugh. “Who would have thought that under all those layers Kurt Hummel was hiding a sex-crazed maniac?”

Kurt's face split into a wide grin, letting go of Sebastian’s hand to loop their arms together. “Who would have thought that under all that bravado Sebastian Smythe was hiding a first-class romantic?”

* * *

Later, after they had ridden twice round the park laughing and joking and pressed just slightly closer to one another than strictly necessary given the dimensions of the carriage, they allowed themselves to be serenaded by yet another busker, their eyes not leaving one another as Kurt wrapped his arms around Sebastian's waist and they slowly swayed to the soft introductory strains of 'Many of Horror'. Sebastian closed his eyes and let himself drink up the moment, beyond caring whether he looked like an idiot so long as he could look like an idiot with Kurt wrapped up around him like this. If tonight was all he ever had with Kurt, if it was all Kurt ever wanted from him, then this would be the moment he would take from it; this feeling of being perfectly happy, perfectly content. This was what people must mean when they talked about being in love, because there couldn't possibly be anything better than this.

When the song came to an end, they tipped the guy generously and then started lazily winding their way back toward the street, not in any particular hurry for their date to end but uncomfortably aware of the guards patrolling with flashlights encouraging the park patrons to be on their way - Sebastian was pretty sure New York cops were more tolerant of two boys holding hands than those they were used to back home, but seventeen years of Ohio living was pretty hard to shake in any case.

Eventually they ended up outside the front entrance of Kurt's hotel, and without warning Kurt twisted on the spot so that they were suddenly face-to-face, still holding hands, and Sebastian had to stop walking abruptly so that he didn't run the other boy over.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Kurt whispered, rocking backward and forward on his heels and drawing his lower lip into his mouth as he smiled coyly up at Sebastian, and Sebastian found that his mouth was suddenly incredibly dry. Now how was that fair?

“Me too,” he replied simply, not trusting his voice to take him any further, and then Kurt was reaching up on his tiptoes to press a soft, chaste kiss to Sebastian's lips, and all thought of talking was swiftly eradicated from his brain. Without thinking he brought their joined hands up to rest in-between their chests, sandwiched between them as they both surged forwards. Sebastian's arm looped around Kurt's waist, drawing the other boy closer, and for a beautiful, breathtaking minute his whole world was made up entirely of _Kurt_.

Then he felt Kurt's deft tongue flick against his lips, warm and wet and utterly intoxicating, and Sebastian knew that if he granted that tongue the entrance it was seeking he would be completely lost. And as much as his whole being was shouting at him to just give in, to take and enjoy and not worry about anything more than _right now_ , deep down he still wanted to do this right. They both deserved to do this right, and the perfect date always ended with a kiss on the porch (or in their case in front of sparkling glass doors manned by curious-looking bellmen) and nothing more.

So, with what seemed like inhuman levels of self restraint, Sebastian let his arm slide away from Kurt's waist, dropping down to his side as he pressed ever-so-slightly harder against Kurt's lips, savoring the memory, then drawing away quickly before he changed his mind. And looking down into Kurt's dark eyes, a pink flush just starting to stain his cheeks, fuck did he want to change his mind.

“Call me tomorrow, Princess?” he rasped, his attempt at confidently casual completely obliterated by the clear desire that was lacing his voice. Without waiting for a response he spun on his heel and started to walk away. He needed to get back to his hotel room for a cold shower and the mother of all masturbation sessions, now.

“Sebastian Smythe, don't you dare take another step!”

Sebastian froze, slowly turning back towards where Kurt was still standing, hands on hips and eyes blazing. His demeanor was so different from the last time he had stopped Sebastian walking away from this exact building it was kind of hilarious, and Sebastian felt a little bit of his usual confident attitude seeping back in. Without really thinking he sauntered back towards Kurt, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Miss me already, babe?” he asked innocently, lips quirking into a smirk when he heard Kurt huff and roll his eyes in exasperation and really, being the perfect boyfriend on his perfectly-planned-and-executed date had been fun and all, but this? This was where they both excelled.

“If you think for one minute I'm letting you walk away from this building without fucking me senseless first, then you're a bigger idiot than I’ve imagined even in my very least charitable moments.” Sebastian could see the pink flush rise higher on Kurt's cheeks as the crude phrase escaped his lips, even though he’d spoken quietly enough that no one could have heard him over the bustling street noise, but he locked eyes with Sebastian and lifted his chin just that little bit higher, staring Sebastian down defiantly, issuing a silent challenge along with his spoken words.

And honestly, when had Sebastian ever backed down from a challenge?

Quickly closing the gap between them, he dipped down so that his words ghosted over Kurt's ear as he whispered, “In that case, lead the way, babe,” grinning as his close proximity meant he felt the shiver that ran through Kurt's body in response. When Kurt grabbed Sebastian's hand in a death-grip and all but hauled him through the glass doors, past smirking doormen, and into the elevator, Sebastian couldn't help thinking how stupid he had been; he had wanted the perfect date, and what could possibly be more perfect than this?

They managed to restrain themselves in the elevator on the tortuous six-floor ride up to Kurt's hotel room, though Sebastian mostly credited that to the elderly couple they were sharing the journey with; if it they’d been alone there probably would have been a whole lot less self-restraint and a whole lot more kissing. And groping, there would definitely be lots of groping. He managed to keep his own eagerness in check by watching out of the corner of his eye as Kurt tapped his foot impatiently, his fingers twitching every time the elevator pinged past another floor. It would have been adorable if it hadn't been so incredibly hot, but then again maybe the two didn't have to be mutually exclusive, Sebastian couldn't help thinking as he took in Kurt's angelic face and the wicked curve of his ass in skin-tight purple leather.

All self control was promptly abandoned, however, the second the door to Kurt's single room closed behind them, and Sebastian suddenly found himself with an armful of Kurt, and those devastatingly gorgeous lips on his once more, and this time when he felt Kurt's probing tongue he didn't hesitate to let his lips part, gasping slightly as he felt Kurt's tongue flick inside his mouth, and _fuck_ but it felt like coming home.

As they moved over towards the bed, stumbling slightly as they stubbornly refused to be apart from one another long enough to check where they were stepping, Sebastian's mind couldn't help but catalogue everything that he remembered from the last time he and Kurt had been together like this - the feel of Kurt's hair as he trailed his fingers through it, the taste of Kurt's mouth on his lips and over his tongue, the intoxicating scent of Kurt that surrounded him as they pressed even closer when Sebastian's legs hit the edge of the bed and they both tumbled down onto the mattress – but also everything that was completely new. And it wasn't just the physical differences either; the way that this time it was Kurt leading their intimate dance, Kurt kissing down Sebastian's neck as he gasped for air and Kurt grinding his hip into Sebastian's crotch from his position sprawled on top of the other boy, one hand on either side of his head as he grinned wickedly at the wanton moan that escaped from Sebastian's lips. It was all that, yes, but it was also the emotional. Last time had been a quick, frantic fumble at a drunken party, with absolutely no talk of tomorrow or the future, and okay, when Sebastian's hips bucked upwards of their own accord into the firm press of Kurt's body there was undeniably the same desperate _wantneedmore_ as last time, but when Kurt crashed his lips together with Sebastian's to capture the desperate cry that ripped from his chest, there was a warmth, an intimacy to his actions, and those were the actions that made Sebastian's heart hammer in his chest, that made him feel like he was struggling to breathe.

Kurt nipped lightly once more at Sebastian's lip before drawing away, smiling wryly as Sebastian whined in complaint and tried to drag Kurt back on top of him, holding out a hand to stop him as he wriggled back to standing.

“I, um, I'm just going to go get undressed in the bathroom. These things might look good on but they are seriously un-sexy to get on and off,” Kurt said, laughing a small, slightly embarrassed laugh that made Sebastian practically want to eat him.

“Come off it Kurt, I'm pretty sure you could do the worm across this room and it would still be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” Sebastian replied nonchalantly, waving a hand at Kurt to try and get him to come back to bed and not even caring that he sounded like the most ridiculous sap, because his words had brought that blush back to Kurt's cheek and maybe he had lied, because _that_ was definitely the hottest thing he had ever seen.

Kurt ducked his head, but not before Sebastian saw the wide grin sneak across his features. “For your information I happen to be _incredible_ at the worm,” he snarked, lifting his gaze again and raising an eyebrow, “but I'm still going to get changed in the bathroom.” When Sebastian pouted and made grabby hands at Kurt again he laughed and darted forwards, placing his hands on either side of Sebastian's face and kissing him swiftly. “Shhh you, I'll be back in a second; in any case, that's where the supplies are.”

Sebastian figured his face must have pretty accurately displayed the subsequent short-circuiting of his brain, because Kurt laughed again, high and bright and beautiful, before whipping round and sauntering across to the bathroom, his hips gyrating far more than could possibly be natural.

For about five seconds after the door slammed behind Kurt's retreating form, Sebastian sat motionless on the bed, desperately trying to put his brain back together and failing every time he remembered that Kurt was now most probably naked on the other side of that flimsy piece of wood. Naked and acquiring lube and condoms. Naked and acquiring lube and condoms so that when he came back they could fuck. Possibly more than once. Oh sweet Jesus.

Somehow Sebastian managed to void himself of his own clothes by the time the door clicked open again, which was a feat in itself really considering his thought process didn't seem to be progressing past the _Kurt-naked-fucking_ loop it had gotten stuck in. When the bathroom door opened again and Kurt’s head peeked around it almost shyly, some of his bravado gone now that he was without his aubergine-colored armor, Sebastian scrambled up onto his knees and beckoned him over, wanting nothing more than to have this gorgeous boy back in his arms.

Kurt smiled softly and moved, rushing over towards the bed as if moving quickly might make him less self-conscious and practically bowling Sebastian over as their lips connected once more, and if Sebastian thought that kissing before had been good, it was _nothing_ compared to now, with Kurt's warm, soft skin pressed flush against the full length of Sebastian's body, his fingers leaving sparks as they trailed across Sebastian's bare torso, inching slowly down between both of their chests to stroke lightly through Sebastian's neatly-trimmed pubic hair.

When Kurt's slender fingers wrapped firmly around his cock and gave an experimental tug Sebastian keened, arching up into the touch. “Fuck, oh fuck Kurt,” he gasped as Kurt's hand started to move, stroking up and down the length of his shaft slowly, teasingly. Kurt smirked and dipped his head to start pressing hot, wet kisses to Sebastian's collarbone as Sebastian's hands scrabbled in vain for purchase against the bed.

“That comes later,” he mumbled against Sebastian's neck, the vibrations tickling Sebastian's damp skin, before tilting his head upward so that Sebastian could fully see his devious grin as he very obviously started grinding his hips downward, his cock rutting against the groove of Sebastian's crotch, just momentarily brushing against Sebastian's own erection before rolling away, and Sebastian couldn't help thrusting desperately upwards, chasing the sensation. In one fluid motion Sebastian rolled the pair of them so that he was now the one on top, panting heavily as he tried to get himself under control. It had been a long time since he had let anybody toy with him like this; Sebastian Smythe was _never_ toyed with.

“My turn,” he whispered, the corner of his lip twitching upwards as he heard Kurt's breath hitch, and he very slowly and deliberately dipped his head to start pressing a trail of kisses along Kurt's neck, his hands planted firmly on either side of Kurt's body to steady himself. As he moved down to Kurt's collarbone, he rocked backwards so that he was kneeling in between Kurt's slightly spread legs, his elbows hitting the bed as if he was prostrating himself in-front of the deity that was Kurt as he worked lower and lower, tongue tracing across and down the toned ridges of the boy's chest, mapping out the layout of Kurt's incredible body with his mouth.

When he reached Kurt's bellybutton he couldn't resist pointing his tongue and dipping inside, earning himself a startled laugh and a swat to the head as Kurt writhed underneath him. “Stop, stop! Ticklish,” Kurt gasped, shoving at Sebastian's shoulder, and Sebastian grinned as he obligingly sank lower. It was odd, sex had never had this playful quality to it before; he supposed that wasn't really the done thing on one-night stands. He liked it though. It did nothing to temper the arousal currently swirling in the pit of his stomach, but somehow seemed to complement it, surrounding the hot passion with warmth, with comfort, with security.

Reaching blindly to his left, he grabbed the bottle of lube that Kurt had flung on the bed when he had jumped him moments earlier, uncapping the lid with a soft click. The quiet noise seemed to ring loudly in the room, and he felt Kurt tense up momentarily underneath him. He frowned slightly, drawing away and sitting up straight as he tried to work out what had just happened. “Um- are you okay?” he asked slowly as Kurt stared up at him, chest panting heavily and eyes slightly guarded.

“What? Of course I am,” Kurt muttered, leaning on one elbow as he reached up to grab at Sebastian's neck with his other hand to draw him closer again. He still seemed to be partly elsewhere, though, and Sebastian intercepted Kurt's hand, twining their fingers together as he brought them up to his mouth to kiss along Kurt's knuckles instead.

“You know, we don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to,” he whispered, hoping that Kurt could see the honesty in his eyes. Yes, okay, he was currently painfully hard and his brain was pretty much a mush of _sexsexsex_ at this point, but more than that, more than anything, he wanted to do this one right. And if that meant doing nothing more than cuddling and falling asleep in Kurt's arms then he would accept that, accept it and be (almost) perfectly happy because of it.

It seemed, however, that Kurt would definitely not be happy with that scenario, because he scowled and slapped at Sebastian's shoulder, “Are you freaking kidding me? If we've gotten to this stage and you're still unsure about _exactly_ how much I want this to happen then I've been doing something seriously wrong tonight!” Kurt paused, grinning slightly as Sebastian barked a short, somewhat relieved laugh, before his face turned serious again. “It's just - okay you know I'm - I haven't done this before, so just - well, at the risk of inviting a crack about my gender, be gentle with me. Please?”

Sebastian froze, their combined hands still held up to his lips as for the briefest of moments the whole world stood still in the wake of Kurt's revelation. It wasn't really a surprise, getting such unequivocal confirmation that Kurt was a virgin, at least as far as this was concerned; Sebastian had kind of assumed as much given their past interactions. But seeing Kurt lying there in front of him, already spreading his legs to offer Sebastian access, so open and trusting and completely confident about what he wanted to happen next, and more importantly _who_ he wanted it to happen with? It was just such a stark contrast to Sebastian's first time, taken from him so long ago it felt like a completely different lifetime, that he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

This was how _his_ first time should have gone; in a bed with somebody who cared about him, who would look after him, who would make sure he fell asleep feeling sated and happy and completely confident that he had shared this landmark event with somebody who truly deserved it. Sebastian was going to make sure that Kurt had all of those things, oh there was no doubt about that, but sometimes, especially in moments like these, he found himself mourning what he had lost; what he had given away to somebody who hadn't appreciated what an incredible gift they were receiving.

“I want you to do it.” The words were out of his mouth before he even really knew what he was saying, thrusting the bottle of lube adamantly towards Kurt. Maybe he couldn't get his first time back, but he could reclaim this at least.

Kurt's eyes went wide as saucers for a long moment, and then he yanked his hand out of Sebastian's grasp, using it to slap Sebastian's extended arm away before scrambling up to a sitting position with an expression painted across his face that Sebastian struggled to interpret. He looked angry, and hurt, but also confused. “Is that some kind of joke?” he asked, voice wounded. “I just told you I’ve never done this before and you want me to - what? Prep myself? There’d better be a punch line here I’m not seeing at the moment or I’m going to be seriously reconsidering this whole thing.”

Sebastian frowned, his brain taking a second to fully understand what Kurt thought he had been proposing. “What - oh fuck - no, no Kurt I didn't mean -” he stammered, shoving the bottle against Kurt's chest once again. “I mean, I want you to do it.” Fuck, why was this so hard to say? “To me. I want you - in me. I want you to top.”

This time Kurt didn't yell, or slap him, but his eyes didn't leave Sebastian's face as his hands came up on instinct to accept the proffered bottle. “Oh,” he whispered, expression still slightly confused, before everything seemed to fall into place and his eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh. Okay. We can - I can do that. Yes, let’s do that.”

Sebastian laughed, glad that Kurt seemed to be as enthusiastic about this idea as he was (even if a small part of him was still heart-stoppingly nervous). “I figured you'd like the idea, I still haven't forgotten about those 'I'll fuck you' pants,” he joked lightly, nudging Kurt's knee with his own.

Kurt smiled brightly, leaning forwards to kiss Sebastian hard on the lips, his free hand coming out to clasp around his neck and draw him closer. “Hey, they were good pants; they got your attention didn't they?” Then his eyes grew serious. “I guess I just never imagined that you liked to do … that, you know?”

He could have laughed it off, made some joke about wanting to give Kurt an easy ride for his first time, but something about Kurt made him want to be completely honest; to lay himself bare emotionally as well as physically.

“I haven't in a really long time, not since...” he began, trailing off with a shrug of his shoulders when the small hiss of sympathy from Kurt let him know that the other boy knew exactly who he was talking about. “It’s what I always think about, when I’m alone, but since George I haven't trusted anyone enough. He took that from me, but I think - I think I want to take it back.” _Will you help me take it back?_ The unspoken end to that sentence hung in the air between them, and Sebastian almost couldn't take the sympathy (not pity, he told himself, not pity at all) that was written across Kurt's face. He dipped his eyes to the comforter, “I know it's silly...” he began, before being cut off by fingers underneath his chin pushing his gaze back up to meet Kurt's eyes.

“Thank you.” It was just two little words, but they somehow managed to convey everything; _thank you for telling me, thank you for trusting me, thank you for being here, thank you for still being here_ , Sebastian took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to shake off the cloud that had started to cling to him. “Right, enough of this emotional crap, are you going to fuck me or what?”

Kurt grinned, and in an instant Sebastian had been flipped onto his back, with Kurt nestled between his legs. “Alright Mr. Impatient, no need to get bitchy.”

Sebastian's mouth was already open, ready to snark that there was no way he was the bitch in this relationship, but then he felt a cool, slick finger start to slide against his hole, and he made the executive decision that talking was completely overrated. He gasped and let his head loll back against the pillow behind him as he felt just the tip of Kurt's index finger already breaching him. “Christ, what happened to ‘I’ve never done this before?’”

“I guess I’m just a natural. Tell me if it's too much,” Kurt whispered, one hand coming to stroke along Sebastian's thigh as he slowly worked his finger inside Sebastian's hole. Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to remember to breathe – _fuck_ it had been a long time.

Kurt took his time, stopping more than once to re-coat his finger with more lube, and as soon as Sebastian got over the initial adjustment he lifted his head to watch Kurt work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully stretched Sebastian out, and Sebastian was _really_ going to have to come up with a whole new scale for “hottest thing he had ever seen”, because seriously, how was that even fair?

When Kurt added a second finger, the burn tipped over into that fuzzy realm of painful pleasure, or pleasurable pain, and Sebastian unconsciously started arching into Kurt's touch, thrusting down as Kurt pumped his fingers. Kurt started moving faster to meet with Sebastian's movements, and when he bent his fingers and hit that sweet spot Sebastian had almost forgotten about Sebastian cried out loud, his hands scrabbling at Kurt's shoulders to make the other boy tip forward and swallow up the sound with his lips on Sebastian's.

By the time Kurt added a third finger Sebastian was a babbling mess, begging Kurt to just pleasepleaseplease fuck him, because he could take it, he could handle it, he just needed Kurt inside of him ohfuckyes just like that _please god_ he needed more, he needed everything. Kurt ignored Sebastian's pleas, kissing away each argument as he continued to open Sebastian up, twisting and scissoring until he was completely sure he wouldn't hurt the other boy. When he finally, _finally_ rolled a condom onto his length and lined up with Sebastian's entrance, there was a moment where the two boys locked eyes, and Sebastian was pretty sure that he would never forget that moment for as long as he lived, and then Kurt entered him and the whole world turned white.

Kurt started cautiously, sinking slowly in until he was buried completely in Sebastian's ass. He held himself there for a long moment, his grip on Sebastian's knees turning white as he struggled to get himself under control. “Oh fuck, Sebastian, oh my God,” he breathed harshly, his whole body trembling with the force of keeping still.

“Uh huh, yes, yes I agree completely,” Sebastian gasped, thrusting his hips desperately forwards to get something, anything, _more_. “It's incredible, mind-blowing, I get it, but can you _please move_ before I die or something equally tragic.”

Kurt cocked an eyebrow, grinning at the flailing boy underneath him. “Your wish is my command, _Princess,_ ” he drawled, drawing out slowly so that only the very tip of his cock was still inside Sebastian, before quickly slamming back in so hard Sebastian was pretty sure he felt the bed shake.

Both boys moaned, and Kurt flopped forward onto Sebastian's chest, panting harshly. “Okay, you make me do that again and this might be over embarrassingly quickly.”

Sebastian wriggled underneath Kurt, rolling his hips in circles and allowing himself to drown in the incredible combination of the sparks of pleasure that the action was causing to shoot up his spine and the most intensely sexual noises he had ever heard escaping from Kurt's lips. “That's fine, we can go again. And again, and again, and again.”

Kurt gasped out a laugh-groan, obviously enjoying the mental image of a night-long sex marathon, and he started to thrust into Sebastian, hard and fast, and with every slap of skin on skin, with every breathless moan of pleasure, Sebastian felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Touch me, Kurt, please,” he moaned, hands scrabbling at the back of Kurt's neck and drawing the other boy into a frantic kiss as Kurt's hand snaked between them and started jerking Sebastian off, his movements erratic as his hips started to stutter and lose their rhythm. All it took was a twist of Kurt's wrist around Sebastian's head and he was coming in thick white streams, coating both his chest and Kurt's as he saw stars. The feel of Sebastian's come hitting his chest seemed to be the tipping point for Kurt, too, because the next second Sebastian felt Kurt's whole body tense up, and then he came in a wordless cry before flopping down on top of Sebastian, completely spent.

They were hot, and sweaty, and Sebastian's release seemed to have gotten _everywhere_ , but when Kurt carefully pulled out, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash before disappearing into the bathroom to return a second later with a warm washcloth to gently clean them both up, Sebastian wouldn't have had it any other way.

In the end they didn't go again; by the time they had finished putting themselves back together they had come to some form of silent agreement that the next step would be cuddles (lots of them) and inane chatter where they both snarked about the other's sexual prowess and embarrassing sex noises, the tightness of their embrace and the way their conversation was constantly interrupted by kisses betraying their real feelings on the matter. Sebastian just about had the presence of mind to check morning contingency plans - “So am I going to have to sneak out at the crack of dawn to avoid getting a nasty wake-up call from Daddy dearest?” “Don't be silly, I'll meet Dad downstairs for breakfast and you'll have all the time in the world to make yourself presentable for your walk of shame.” - before falling asleep to the warm press of skin-on-skin and the soothing sound of Kurt breathing softly next to him.

* * *

Kurt had no idea what time it was when he woke up - the heavy curtains blocked out any daylight that might be happening outside the window - and he honestly didn’t care. Sex was wonderful, sex was everything he had dreamed it would be and more, but waking up, naked, tangled up in the person you had that wonderful sex with the night before was a very close second.

Sebastian was spooned around him, their legs intertwined, one arm draped over Kurt’s rib cage, the soft flutter of his exhales tickling the back of Kurt’s neck. And Kurt realized that if this was all there was, just this one night and back to their separate existences (although he was starting to harbor a very secret seed of hope that this wasn’t all there was going to be at all) then as amazing as making love to Sebastian had been, this was what he was going to remember. Being held, no, cradled, really, in Sebastian’s arms, pressed back into that broad chest, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed.

To be able to wake up like this, every morning, to have a right to it, would be perfect happiness.

But just in case it was just for today, Kurt held perfectly still in Sebastian’s unconscious embrace, nothing moving but his dick, which apparently felt that Sebastian’s hand was close enough to warrant progressing from its normal morning thickening to full-blown needy erection.

He must have moved or made a sound because Sebastian stirred and his next exhale rolled its way up from his chest in a contented rumble. The hand draped over Kurt’s ribs flexed and pressed against his abdomen and Kurt felt his cock give a little hopeful surge that bumped it against the back of Sebastian’s fingers.

“Mmmm. What have we here?” Sebastian’s voice was deep and morning-husky and his fingers were soft and lax as they trailed down Kurt’s length and back up again. “So this is how it feels to wake up next to a gorgeous guy who’s hard for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kurt said. “This happens every morning.”

“Really?” Sebastian pressed his lips against the top of Kurt’s spine, leaving little kisses on his skin between words, and Kurt could feel Sebastian’s dick hardening in turn against his own ass. “And what do you usually do about it?”

“I usually wait for it to go away then take a shower,” Kurt said.

Sebastian trailed a finger up his shaft and over the head before moving away completely. “Well I’d hate to mess with your routine...”

“Don’t even think about it.” Kurt grabbed Sebastian’s hand and guided it back to his dick, grinding back against Sebastian’s erection as added incentive. He swore he could feel Sebastian’s lips curve up in a smile against the skin of his back.

“Whatever you say, Tiger.”

Kurt huffed. “Tiger? Does that mean I’ve graduated from ‘newborn kitten?’”

“Sex kitten is more like,” Sebastian replied, and Kurt could hear the smirk in his voice. He twisted his head around, eyebrows pulled together in a look that had nothing to do with morning-after bliss.

“What?” Sebastian asked, suddenly serious.

Kurt hesitated, then turned back toward the window. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Sebastian’s hand left Kurt’s dick again, and pressed into his chest, turning him onto his back so they were looking at each other again. “Don’t do that. If I fucked up, tell me.”

Kurt bit his lip. “No, not really. It’s just…”

“What?” Sebastian insisted.

It felt almost too vulnerable to say, when that was the way they’d always played. But here, like this, it didn’t feel right any more. “It’s something you call a girl. Sex kitten.”

Sebastian propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at Kurt for a long time, and Kurt could see he felt unsure about something, but he just waited in silence for Sebastian to decide whether to speak or not.

“The thing is,” Sebastian finally said, “I don’t really think that bothers you. Not really. You couldn’t be so completely who you are if you didn’t totally accept all the things that make you _you_. The way you dress, the songs you sing, I think you like that you have some...feminine qualities. I think you want people to appreciate both sides of Kurt Hummel.”

It was kind of a lovely speech, much more intuitive than anything he’d ever expected to hear from Sebastian, and much more eloquent than anything he’d ever managed to come up with in his own head for why he insisted time and time again on flaunting his uniqueness in a town that would only bring him misery for it. Kurt felt warmth blossom in his chest as he realized just how much Sebastian _got_ him, and he rewarded the other boy with a quick kiss and a return to their previous position, curling back against Sebastian’s chest and pulling that nimble-fingered hand back to wrap around his cock.

“I just think,” Sebastian continued, lips soft against Kurt’s ear, “it pisses you off when people assume that being a little bit girly makes you any less of a boy.” His hand squeezed around Kurt’s erection. “But I don’t think I’m likely to forget that any time soon.”

They lay in silence after that, Sebastian still stroking gently and rubbing his own hard cock in lazy circles against Kurt’s ass. Eventually, when Kurt couldn’t hold still any longer and began to thrust back and forth between the twin points of stimulation, Sebastian let go with a soft, “Just give me a second,” and came back, after a moment of fumbling, with a lube-slippery hand that slid against Kurt’s skin in the most delicious way.

It would have been easy to just lay there and let Sebastian pleasure him, but Kurt wanted more. He turned around in Sebastian’s embrace, stretching out so that their cocks pressed together, slid against each other so perfectly that Kurt never wanted it to end.

“Good morning,” Sebastian smiled, and he reached down and wrapped his hand around both their cocks, squeezing them together to increase the friction of their slide, and jerking them at the same time in a push-pull of sensation that was like nothing Kurt had ever felt before.

“Morning,” Kurt managed before he closed his eyes and threw his head back to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure building in his balls, his dick, his belly. “God, that’s amazing.”

“Open your eyes,” Sebastian said softly and Kurt obeyed and found Sebastian’s gaze intent on him. “Keep them open. Just look at me.”

It shouldn’t have been a hard thing, but it was, staring into those deep green eyes as Sebastian’s hand gripped him and the pleasure spread deep and strong. A moan forced itself out of Kurt’s throat and it was so painfully intimate that he surrendered and let his lids drop closed.

“No, don’t hide. Show me.” Sebastian’s voice was breathless and pleading and so unlike him.

Kurt opened his eyes again. “It’s embarrassing,” he tried to explain but Sebastian was already shaking his head.

“No it’s not. It’s fucking gorgeous.”

So Kurt kept looking, and Sebastian kept stroking, and soon they were both moaning, eyes locked on each other, offering the sounds of their pleasure to each other and Kurt had never felt so open and raw in his life. His orgasm built and built but Kurt held back with everything he had, trying to keep this moment of unexpected beauty, closer than he had ever felt to another human being. But eventually he couldn’t help thrusting into Sebastian’s hand, against his cock.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and his lips tilted in a beautiful smile. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he gasped and he shuddered once, hard, eyes still locked on Kurt’s, and Kurt could see it - the exact moment when he dropped over the edge - then his eyes finally closed and he was coming, hot against Kurt, and with two more thrusts Kurt was following him, pulling Sebastian as close and tight as he could.

As they came down Kurt felt an unexpected and overwhelming desire to cry.

But Sebastian was laughing, loud and free, a captivating sound, and Kurt opened his eyes to a bright smile. “God that was good,” Sebastian said, "better than waiting for it to go away, right?"

“I’m a little disappointed, actually,” Kurt said, but he draped himself over Sebastian’s chest, despite the mess between them, and teased his lips over the skin of Sebastian’s neck.

“Disappointed?”

Kurt pulled back a little and smiled. “Well, I was sort of hoping we could - reverse what we did last night. So I could feel you like that, you know?”

Sebastian’s hand - the clean one - came up and cupped Kurt’s face. “Next time, okay?” he said simply.

And Kurt might have cried at that if his phone hadn’t chosen that exact moment to ring. Saved by the bell (or Defying Gravity) indeed, he thought as he reached for it, then groaned.

"Hey Dad."

"What happened to breakfast?" His dad’s voice was loud and morning-cheerful in his ear, and from the chatter in the background Kurt could tell he was already downstairs waiting.

“What time is it?”

Sebastian picked up Kurt’s free hand and began to toy with his fingers.

“It’s 8:30. I thought we were gonna meet in the restaurant.”

Kurt felt lips, then a tongue, tease against the tip of his index finger.

“Um - yeah - I guess I overslept. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”

Sebastian’s mouth moved on, teasing one fingertip after the other.

“Okay, I suppose I can nurse a cup of coffee for half an hour.”

“Great. Good. See you.” Kurt hung up and let his head fall back on his pillow. “I really like that,” he gasped as Sebastian’s tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”

“But I have to meet my dad in twenty minutes,” Kurt protested.

“Not my problem,” Sebastian purred and slid his lips down to Kurt’s palm.

Suddenly the voice of Britney Spears filled the room and it was Sebastian’s turn to reach for his phone.

“Mom. What’s up?”

“ _Womanizer?_ ” Kurt mouthed soundlessly at Sebastian.

“Oh, well, I decided to meet Kurt - for breakfast. Yeah, I’m on my way there now.” He waved off Kurt’s attempts to signal him. “Oh, um, okay. If you want to. I’m sure that’s fine.”

“Womanizer?” Kurt said out loud this time as Sebastian hung up.

“David did it,” Sebastian explained, staring down at his now-silent phone. “My parents are coming for breakfast.”

“What?!”

Sebastian looked up then, and lifted his shoulder in a shrug that, if it was meant to be nonchalant, failed miserably. “I said I was having breakfast with you, and my mom said she and my dad were coming over to - join us.”

“And my dad!” Kurt reminded him, a slight note of panic in his voice. “Do they always do this?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I have no idea. I’ve never really told them about anyone since...you know. I think this may be some kind of protective thing. They’re probably worried that my judgment is as bad as it was...fuck!” He looked helplessly at Kurt, as if Kurt could somehow fix this.

“Yeah,” was all Kurt could think of to say. “Fuck.”

The next twenty minutes were a scramble of blinding sunlight through suddenly opened curtains, wet washcloths, toothbrushes, yesterday’s clothes and “Just pull the blankets up for God’s sake, Kurt, it’s not like motel maids never see come-stained sheets!” Kurt insisted that Sebastian get off the elevator at the second floor and take the stairs down to avoid suspicion.

The elevator doors opened on a lobby that was sparkling with sunlight from the two-story glass wall over the main entryway. He spotted his dad right away, standing just outside the hotel restaurant talking casually with two people whose backs were to Kurt, but who must have been Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. Kurt could only imagine that Sebastian’s parents recognized his dad from some political event, because they were chatting like old friends.

“Finally! I’ve been looking all over for you!” The too-loud voice, so close, made Kurt jump and Sebastian latched an arm around his waist like he thought Kurt might just run away. All three adults must have heard because they turned in unison, and six eyebrows rose almost comically at the sight of them standing there together. “Let’s get this over with,” Sebastian hissed in his ear and pulled him along, arm still wrapped tightly around him, towards the parents.

There were introductions and hand shaking and Kurt knew he should have been paying attention to what everyone was saying, and who looked suspicious, but his brain couldn’t seem to get past the fact that Sebastian was standing in a hotel lobby introducing Kurt to his dad while holding him like a boyfriend. Like a lover.

Mr. Smythe was in the middle of explaining how he’d been working for weeks to try to get a meeting with Burt Hummel to discuss policy issues that had come up on a recent case of his, and wasn’t it fortunate that his own son was dating the Congressman’s son, and Kurt was trying to decide if he’d been transported to some alternate universe or if maybe his every dream was coming true when he felt a buzz against his leg and Idina Menzel’s voice floated up out of his pocket.

Rachel’s face filled his screen and he muttered an “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” before drifting away from the group.

“Hey Rachel, what’s up?”

All he could hear was crying. And not Rachel-drama-queen crying but real, wrenching sobs that sent his stomach into a panicked twist. “Rachel? What’s wrong? Are Finn and Carole okay?”

“Oh, God, they’re fine. I’m sorry!” she said between gasping breaths. “It’s just, you won’t believe it.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me.”

She sniffed sharply, twice, and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Kurt. I just - we just found out and - oh God, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

Kurt moved farther away from Sebastian and their parents and clutched at the edge of one of the tables scattered around the lobby. “Just tell me. What the hell happened?”

“We’re disqualified. We can’t compete at Regionals.” She ended the last word on another sob and Kurt’s grip on the table tightened as he tried to wait it out without screaming at her to get it together and tell him everything.

“Rachel. Can you please calm down and tell me what happened? I’m trying not to panic here.”

“You need to panic. Kurt, I don’t know how...”

“Why? Why are we disqualified?”

Rachel sniffed again, then he heard her blow her nose. “It’s the Warblers. Somebody took a video of them practicing - all their songs and arrangements and the dancing and everything - and they e-mailed it to all the other teams.”

Kurt took a deep breath. “Okay, someone, but nobody from McKinley would have done that.”

“They traced the e-mails. They were sent from our computer lab, on Thursday during school hours. And the original footage was uploaded on one of them and now we can’t compete and what’s going to happen to our chances of getting into NYADA with this on our records?”

She dissolved again into long, shaky sobs and Kurt felt like he wasn’t far behind her. “Do they have any idea who it was, though?” he asked. “Nobody on our team would cheat like that!”

“It was on our computer, Kurt! And who else would do it? Who else could have done it?”

_You, you, you are womanizer, womanizer, womanizer . . ._

Sebastian. Kurt’s heart sank even further and he couldn’t keep the tears from starting in his eyes at the Britney song echoing out from Sebastian’s phone. He knew exactly what that call was about. Between the lobby noise and Rachel’s sobbing in his ear he didn’t hear Sebastian answer it, but Britney cut off abruptly after a couple more bars.

It took him a few breaths to get his emotions under control before he could turn around to assess the damage.

Sebastian was staring right at him, listening to whoever had called to give him the news, and the light pouring through the wall of glass behind Kurt lit him up like a spot that seemed to throw everything else into relief against him. So Kurt saw it, in high definition 3D, when the briefest look of shocked betrayal filled Sebastian’s eyes and then disappeared as fast as it came, and suddenly the Sebastian that Kurt had spent the night with was gone, shut down behind an expression of careful disinterest. Sebastian listened, then spoke, then listened again, all the while staring at Kurt as if he was some vaguely interesting stranger Sebastian happened to have spotted at that moment, while their parents continued to chatter obliviously just steps away.

“Mr. Schue has been calling everybody, trying to get whoever it was to confess and we all have to meet with Principal Figgins on Monday with our parents and people keep saying that if no one comes forward we’re all going to get marks on our permanent records...”

“I have to go Rachel. I’ll call you back.”

He cut her off mid-sentence and stayed where he was, eyes locked on Sebastian’s, shaking his head in denial of whatever Sebastian was hearing from his phone. He wanted to believe that Sebastian would know he wasn’t capable of doing something like this, but he also knew that this was exactly what Sebastian had feared. The thing that had kept him from ever really connecting with anyone. He’d sworn he would never let anyone use him the way George had done, and now...

With one swift move Sebastian ended his call and slid his phone into his pocket. He took several steps toward Kurt, his face still perfectly blank, coming just close enough to be heard but no closer.

“Sebastian, you have to know I didn’t have anything to do with this. I would never - none of us would ever - there has to be more to this somehow.” Kurt knew he was pleading but he didn’t care. They’d been so _close._ Sebastian had stood there with his arm around Kurt’s waist, had told his parents that they were dating. He’d opened himself to Kurt the night before, both figuratively and literally. He’d held Kurt in his arms that morning and come, staring into Kurt’s eyes like they were his anchor. And remembering that, Kurt’s eyes filled with tears again and he blinked furiously to keep them from spilling over.

The sight of Kurt’s tears did something to Sebastian. Tiny cracks began to show in his carefully detached expression. One hand lifted just the slightest bit, almost reaching to touch but when Kurt reached his own hand out to meet it Sebastian pulled it back sharply.

“Please, Sebastian,” he begged unashamedly. “I swear to you, I had no idea. Don’t - don’t let whoever did it hurt us like this. Please.”

But Sebastian had himself back under control, his mask of indifference firmly in place. “I have to go,” he said, making abruptly for the doors, and only the strain in his voice gave anything away.

“Sebastian!” Kurt called after him, but he kept walking, through the doors, into the sunlight, out, Kurt was sure, of his life.

Kurt turned and ran for the elevators, catching just a glimpse of the three adults staring at him with gaping mouths, but he ignored his father’s voice calling him back. He held on long enough to get to his floor, key open his door, and latch it behind him before he collapsed on the blanket hiding his come-stained sheets and cried.


	11. Chapter 11

_To Mercedes Jones: I need you. Can you be at my house in an hour?_

_From Mercedes Jones: aren’t u in ny right now?_

_To Mercedes Jones: Plane just landed. Can you come?_

_From Mercedes Jones: b there in an hour._

* * *

“You slept with Sebastian?!”

Kurt gestured frantically for Mercedes to lower her voice. “Really? That entire story, George and everything, and you’re stuck on the fact that I slept with Sebastian?”

“Well, excuse me but the last thing you said to me about that boy was ‘If he was the last gay guy on the planet I’d start dating girls.’ So yeah, that’s what I’m stuck on.”

Kurt sighed and flopped backward on his bed, pulling a pillow over his face. “What am I going to do?”

“Well you’re not gonna sit around feeling sorry for yourself!” She snatched the pillow away from him. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want?” she repeated. “In a perfect world where anything could happen, what do you want?”

Kurt thought. “In a perfect world I’d want us to get reinstated, and win Regionals, and I’d want to get into NYADA and I guess I’d want George to get some kind of comeuppance -”

The pillow came down hard and fast on his head.

“Ow! What was that for?” he pouted, glaring at Mercedes petulantly.

“Don’t be stupid, boy. I know you want that stuff. _Sebastian_ ,” she said it slowly, drawing out each syllable. “In a perfect world what do you want with Sebastian?”

Kurt’s eyes roved around his room, all the familiar things that now seemed oddly out of place since he himself felt so changed. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Mercedes when he spoke. “I want him. I want to go out with him and tell people he’s my boyfriend and slow dance with him to all the songs I love and kiss him for hours in the car and drag him up here when my parents aren’t home and -”

“Okay, I get it!” Mercedes regarded him solemnly, shaking her head gently from side to side. “You’re in love with that boy. You know that, right?”

As soon as she said it he knew it was true. He was in love with Sebastian Smythe. His heart felt like it was being pulled in two directions, half of it trying to jump excitedly into his throat and the other half trying to sink dejectedly into his belly. Fuck. He was in love with Sebastian. He was head-over-heels kooky in love with a boy who was probably already planning his evening out fucking other men to erase the memory of the boy who he thought had betrayed him. To erase _Kurt_.

Except, for some reason that probably meant he’d lost his mind, he didn’t believe that was what Sebastian was doing at all. He just couldn’t believe that of Sebastian any more.

“You know that, right?” Mercedes repeated herself.

“Well I do now!” Kurt grabbed the pillow and smacked her on the arm with it.

“You have to tell him,” she said, ignoring the pillow completely.

But Kurt was already shaking his head. "I can't."

"Why? If you love the boy isn't it worth taking the chance?"

Kurt leaned forward and took Mercedes' hands in his own. "I love you for wanting me to, even after what he did to you and David. But you weren't there. In that hotel room, together like that, we were so connected, you know? And I know he knew that was real. He opened himself up to me in every way. He trusted me. It was more than just that night, and I know that's how he felt too."

"So why can't you tell him?"

Kurt leaned back against his headboard and picked up the pillow, cradling it in his arms. "If you could have seen his face, when he found out about the video. His very first thought was that it was happening all over again. That I'd used him just like George did. It was automatic, you know? He has to - he has to figure this out for himself. Remember how you told me that after everything that happened you couldn’t just call up David and tell him how you felt? That he had to decide he wanted you enough to take the risk?”

Mercedes nodded.

“Well, the same goes for Sebastian. He has to decide whether he wants to trust me or not. We can't be together if I'm always trying to prove that I’m not going to screw him over somehow. I told him I didn't have anything to do with it. Now all I can do is wait for him to choose to believe that. Or not."

Mercedes looked at Kurt for a long time before she said hesitantly, “And you’re sure this isn’t just Sebastian being - Sebastian? What if he never meant for it to be more?”

Kurt shook his head. “He said ‘next time.’”

“‘Next time?’”

“When we were together, I mentioned something I wanted to do and he said ‘next time.’”

Mercedes looked at him like he was a little bit crazy.

“Sebastian doesn’t do next times,” he insisted. “But he said it and I have to trust him, just like he has to trust me. I have to choose to trust him.”

Mercedes shook her head. “Are you sure you can?”

Kurt shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. “I love him. What else can I do?”

Mercedes must have decided to be okay with it, because she grinned back. “Well, we could always see if Chandler has a brother . . .”

* * *

_From The Brightest Star: You have to sit next to me in Glee Club today. I need the moral support._

_To The Brightest Star: Why?_

_From The Brightest Star: Because everybody thinks I'm behind the Warbler videos and I need you on my side so they'll believe I'm not._

_To The Brightest Star: Why would anybody think that?_

_From The Brightest Star: Was that sarcasm? Do you not think I want to get into NYADA badly enough to try to rig Regionals?_

_To The Brightest Star: I'll sit with you._

* * *

Although there were plenty of suspicious glares in the choir room to go around, Kurt couldn't deny that most of them were pointed in Rachel's direction. Flanked by her honor guard (Kurt and a miserable-looking Finn) she ignored them all and focused resolutely on Mr. Schue, who was sitting in front of them all in the pose he always adopted when it was bad news.

“We’re still out,” he said heavily.

Protesting voices filled the room, creating an unintelligible cacophony until one - Santana’s - soared above the rest.

“But they talked to everyone. They met with our parents! We all told them we didn’t have anything to do with it!”

Everyone else quieted down, looking to Mr. Schue for an answer.

“There’s no doubt the video was sent from our computer lab,” he sighed. “And who else besides a glee club member would have any reason to be involved in this? So we’re all guilty until proven innocent, as far as the Show Choir Board is concerned. On the up side, without actual hard evidence the school board can’t mark anyone’s record, but the only way we can be reinstated is if the actual perpetrator comes forward.”

“How would that help?” Puck asked.

“If the person who did this comes forward and is removed from the club, the rest of you can still participate, as long as the Board is satisfied you had no knowledge of the cheating.”

“But nobody here did it,” Artie said. “This is all circumstantial! It’s un-American!”

“What if someone did confess?” Sam said quietly from the back. Every head turned sharply in his direction.

“I didn’t do it!” he amended hastily. “But what if somebody took the fall? Said they did it and got kicked out for the good of the team? And swore to that Board thing that he acted alone? This is the seniors’ last chance. So if one of the rest of us...”

Chatter started up again, some skeptical but some hopeful. Kurt was not at all surprised to see Rachel’s eyes light up, but he was a little shocked that everyone else seemed to be seriously considering the plan, too.

“Look, guys, I know that seems like the easy way out, but whoever did it would be banned for life. And it _would_ go in their record.” Mr. Schue said.

“I could do it,” Rory said quietly from the back. No one in Ireland’s going to care about my record here, right?”

Hopeful voices filled the room again, but for Kurt this was the last straw. He jumped up and out-shouted them all.

“No! No freaking way.” All the heads now turned in his direction. “If somebody in here actually did it then yes, of course I want them to come forward and tell the truth.” He looked around at all of his friends and he couldn’t exactly blame them for wanting to find a way out, but this wasn’t it. “But we’re not letting somebody confess to something they didn’t do, just to get reinstated. If we do that, then we’re all cheaters. I won’t compete on a lie.”

Chatter started back up again, everyone arguing for or against the point, Rachel looking at Kurt like he’d personally betrayed her, and Mr. Schue shouting out trying to regain control.

Kurt sat down and let the drama spin out around him.

* * *

_From Noah Puckerman: is mercedes with u_

_To Noah Puckerman: Yes. Why?_

_From Noah Puckerman: u 2 better come out front ur gonna wanna see this_

_To Noah Puckerman: What?_

_From Noah Puckerman: warblurs_

* * *

Kurt ran for the front entrance, dragging Mercedes along behind him. He told himself he was simply grateful for a distraction - any distraction - from the morbid, unending cloud of depression that had hung around the glee club all week. It didn’t help that Mr. Schue was backing Rachel up in her insistence that they rehearse on schedule, just as if they were going to be competing at Regionals anyhow. That was really all it was. He needed a distraction.

And his heart was only racing because of the exertion of running down the hall dragging his friend, who kept trying to pull him back.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mercedes gasped as they swerved around a corner. “Where are we going?”

“Puck says something’s up outside,” was all Kurt could pant back before the main doors loomed before them, propped open as they always were after school, and even before they crossed the threshold he could see navy and red blazers lined up on the lawn in a vee, like migrating geese, with David standing proudly at the center point.

And on the left, last in line, at least a head taller than anyone else, Sebastian.

Kurt didn’t realize, until he saw David and disappointment stabbed his chest, how much he’d hoped that whatever this was would be for him.

Mercedes stopped dead at the top of the stairs, some oblivious students still moving up and down around her, then voices began to swell from the uniformed ranks, and little by little the steps cleared until Mercedes and Kurt stood alone. David took two steps forward and opened his mouth to sing.

_Everybody needs a little time away_

_I heard her say_

_from each other_

Kurt drifted to the side, towards where Puck was leaning on the railing, trying to move away from the focal point of Mercedes, who looked completely shell-shocked and as if she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. He very carefully did not look at Sebastian. No. This was not about him. It was about Mercedes.

_Hold me now_

_It’s hard for me to say I’m sorry_

_I just want you to know_

“None of us have a chance with these fuckers around.” Puck shook his head in wonder.

David was at the foot of the steps now, his face shining up at Mercedes, who was finally getting the picture and looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment. There was so much happiness zipping back and forth between them that Kurt simply couldn’t help himself. He looked at Sebastian.

Who was staring straight back at him.

_Hold me now_

_I really want to tell you I’m sorry_

_I could never let you go_

Tears filled Kurt’s eyes. He knew, he _knew_ Sebastian had to be responsible for this. Whatever else he may or may not have decided, he must have realized that David deserved to find happiness in his own way. And that meant that just maybe he’d decided love was something worth trusting.

_After all that we’ve been through_

_I will make it up to you_

_I promise to_

Some of the people standing around actually picked up the lyrics and started singing along with the Warblers on the chorus, but Kurt only had eyes for Sebastian who, although he was too far away for Kurt to make out his exact expression, seemed to only have eyes for him. And as self-centered as it seemed, Kurt couldn’t help but feel that this, Mercedes and David, was really a gift from Sebastian to him.

_And after all that’s been said and done_

_You’re just a part of me_

_I can’t let go._

As the Warblers held the long last note and Mercedes flung herself into David’s arms, Kurt mouthed a soundless “Thank you” to Sebastian. And before all the Warblers except David turned in unison and made their perfectly timed exit, Sebastian smiled.

* * *

_From Finn Hudson: Mr. Schue says emergency meeting in the choir room at lunch. Tell everybody._

_Forwarded message to Le Glee Club Entier: What fresh hell is this?_

* * *

Kurt really thought Mr. Schuester had no business ever accusing Rachel of being dramatic. He sat dead center in room, in his little chair, completely silent as everyone filed in, took a seat, and stopped talking to give him their full attention. Kurt could usually appreciate a little tension-building, but after a weekend waiting, hoping, _dying_ for Sebastian to call and tell him that the whole David/Mercedes thing had been the first step in deciding to trust love again, his patience for people who left him hanging was wearing thin.

“We’re back in!!” Mr. Schue finally shouted, leaping up from his chair and spreading his arms wide. There was about half a second of stunned silence, then chaos erupted around the room. People leapt into each others’ arms, there were cries of joy and relief and disbelief, and when everything eventually started calming down Finn’s voice raised over the others.

“What the heck happened?”

Mr. Schue waited for quiet again. “It seems like whoever actually made the video came forward and confessed.”

Noise filled the room once more as everyone started asking questions at the same time. Mr. Schue raised his hands for silence. “All I know is that it wasn’t anyone at McKinley. Apparently whoever it was made anonymity a condition of the confession. And since no actual laws were broken, the Show Choir Board agreed. So I guess we’ll never know.”

“But shouldn’t that person be banned just like they said we’d be?” Rachel asked.

“I’ve been assured that whoever did it isn’t a member of or associated with any of the competing glee clubs.” Mr. Schue said. “And really, I don’t care. We’re back!”

Everyone seemed to agree that that was the important point. Everyone but Kurt.

His first crazy thought, before Mr. Schue said it wasn’t anyone from any of the clubs, had been that Sebastian had fallen on his sword in some kind of grand romantic gesture. Which was ridiculous. Sebastian wouldn’t do that to his own club, and of course Kurt wouldn’t want him to. But who else would have come forward? Who else, for that matter, would have wanted to mess with one or both clubs like that in the first place, if not for a competitive edge?

There was one candidate, of course. If the sabotage hadn’t been to give someone an advantage at Regionals, then it had to be personal. And much as he hated to think about it, there was one person who had a personal grudge against someone in New Directions _and_ someone in the Warblers. George. George who Sebastian had exposed and who Kurt had eviscerated.

But he couldn’t figure out why George would up and confess.

As Mr. Schue outlined their increased rehearsal schedule while Rachel reminded everyone of how grateful they should be to her for insisting they keep up their practices over the past week and a half, Kurt pondered. If George was the one who’d framed them, could that have anything to do with the reason Sebastian hadn’t called him? Was he feeling guilty? Or maybe he was just fed up with the fact that Kurt seemed to be dragging George back into his life over and over again. Maybe he had decided it just wasn’t worth the aggravation.

Kurt’s heart was sinking with that realization when Mercedes caught his eye, still wrapped up in everyone’s excitement, and grinned. Kurt mustered up the best smile he could under the circumstances. Mercedes might just be the key. She was spending time with David again, David was Sebastian’s best friend, she had to know something.

* * *

_To Mercedes Jones: If you had any information about the cheating thing, you’d tell me, right?_

_From Mercedes Jones: what do u mean?_

_To Mercedes Jones: I mean you’d tell me if David said anything about Sebastian being involved in clearing us, right?_

_To Mercedes Jones: RIGHT?_

_From Mercedes Jones: okay, look. U didn’t hear this from me . . ._

* * *

Kurt had never been this nervous, ever. It wasn’t even close to the normal pre-competition jitters he was so familiar with. Sebastian was here. Somewhere in this building, warming up with his friends, adjusting his tie or taking a final swig of hot tea or whatever, he was _here_.

And he’d saved them.

Mercedes hadn’t known a lot, but she’d known that it had indeed been George who’d framed McKinley’s glee club, and that Sebastian had somehow forced him to confess everything. Kurt desperately wanted to believe that this was a good sign. The Warblers were screwed either way, and had to create a whole new performance regardless of who the perpetrator was, so Sebastian had to have done it for New Directions. For him. They had to talk. They had to and today, Kurt had decided, they were going to.

Kurt reflexively adjusted his own perfectly straight tie and surreptitiously dropped the cup of tea Rachel had insisted he drink into the trashcan. Aural Intensity had given a passable performance in the first slot and now The New Directions, along with everyone else, were filing into the theater for the second performance of the day. The Warblers.

Kurt had typed and erased a dozen e-mails over the past few days. It wasn’t right, he’d finally decided. What he had to say was too important, and it was far too easy to misinterpret digital communications. He needed to see Sebastian. He needed Sebastian to be able to look into his eyes and decide if he wanted to trust what he saw there. And he just knew that he’d be able to read, in Sebastian’s eyes, whether they had a chance or not. So today was the day. After their performances, of course, because the team had so much riding on this and if things didn’t go well with Sebastian then Kurt knew he’d never be able to swallow it down and smile and bounce around on the stage as if nothing had happened.

But after the performances he was going to find Sebastian, put his heart on the line, and force Sebastian to decide, one way or another. Back in that hotel room in New York Sebastian had offered himself to Kurt. He’d laid himself out, made himself as vulnerable as he knew how to be. And now Kurt knew it was his turn to do the same thing. Sebastian must be afraid that Kurt blamed him for his anger and lack of trust, and Kurt realized that he had to show him that one mistake wasn’t ever going to be enough to make him walk away from whatever they’d been on their way to becoming.

He must have been dawdling, because Rachel grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of where the others were sitting in close formation. The lights were already going down as he fell into his seat, the announcer introducing “The Dalton Academy WWWWarblers!” in his best WWF voice.

Kurt’s eyes strained to try and make out Sebastian among the shapeless silhouettes entering and taking their places in the dark. There was complete silence for a pregnant moment, then the familiar beat-boxing started and, still in darkness, voices began to swell.

_Muh-muh-muh-muh-muh-muh ma, ma, ma_

_Muh-muh-muh-muh-muh-muh ma, ma, ma_

Rachel’s hand clamped down on Kurt’s forearm. “Crap!” she hissed in his ear. “This song is perfect for them!”

And it was. Lights suddenly flooded the stage and the Warblers began their intricate choreography, different voices taking up rhythm and harmony, and there was Sebastian, dead center, flanked by the tall blonde - Jeff, Kurt remembered - and his boyfriend, both “Muh-muh-muh-ing.” The wall of sound built to a crescendo then cut off, sudden and sharp, and Sebastian’s tenor filled the room.

_I can’t get these memories out of my mind_

_And some kind of madness_

_Has started to evolve._

The background voices burst back in, sharp and sudden, then cut off again.

_I, I tried so hard to let you go_

_But some kind of madness_

_Is swallowing me whole._

Kurt could feel the seats around him shaking. People were already starting to dance where they sat; soon they’d be up on their feet. They couldn’t help it. The driving counterpoint of the background singers sent energy ricocheting around the room and there, still and straight at the center of it, was beautiful, strong, impossible Sebastian.

_I have finally seen the light_

_And I have finally realized_

_What you mean._

He was all Kurt could see, or hear, or feel. The other Warblers continued to move around him in their perfect dance, with harmonizing and counterpoint and cacophonous voices all blending in such sophisticated ways that Kurt couldn’t even really be sure how they were doing it. His heart was beating triple time. Perfect as the song was for the Warblers’ own special sound, it couldn’t, _couldn’t_ be a coincidence that Sebastian was standing in front of him singing these words, this song.

“We are so screwed,” Rachel whispered.

“I know,” Kurt murmured back, eyes never wavering from the tall boy singing about being madly in love.

And he was. He was completely screwed. Because he needed this to be for him. His serenade. So much bigger and more intense than a love song on a school lawn. Because Sebastian was so much bigger and more intense.

Sebastian squinted into the lights just a tiny bit, like he was scanning the audience for someone, and Kurt’s breath caught. It would be so like Sebastian to not contact him, to wait for a moment like this, when he could put himself out there, show his hand, and still preserve complete deniability. Just a performance. Until it wasn’t.

_And when I look back on all the crazy fights we had_

_Like some kind of madness was taking control_

The only problem was that if Kurt was wrong he wasn’t sure his heart was going to be able to survive it.

Everyone was on their feet now, dancing, clapping along, and as spotlights began to spin out across the audience Sebastian spotted him at last and their eyes locked.

_Yes I know I can be wrong_

_Maybe I’m too headstrong_

_Our love is_

The rest of the Warblers clustered back around Sebastian for their patented power finale, David’s baritone hitting the final “Madness” as hands clasped behind backs, heads bowed, lights went out and the audience erupted in screams and cheers.

Kurt fell back into his seat and when the lights came up the stage was bare and he was finally able to turn his attention back to his teammates. They sat in silence, looking almost as shocked and overwhelmed as they had been when Mr. Schue had taken them on that first field trip to see Vocal Adrenaline. Kurt was grateful for that. It meant his own expression, although coming from a completely different emotion, fit right in.

“When did they learn to do that?” Artie asked faintly. “They weren’t that good last year, were they?”

“Oh, I think they had some motivation today that they didn’t have last year,” Mercedes said, giving Kurt a pointed look.

Kurt’s heart leapt a little at the fact that Mercedes, at least, had gotten the same impression he had. That had to be a good sign, right?

A small commotion flared up at the back of the theater. The Warblers were coming in now to watch the next performance, and their friends and family members were crowding around them offering hugs and congratulations. Kurt was turning in their direction, halfway out of his seat, when someone grabbed his hand and he was pulled hard past Rachel’s legs and out into the aisle.

“I was just going to...”

Mercedes glared at him. “After our performance!” she said, and she dragged him resolutely in the direction of the exit opposite the one where the Warblers were congregated, the rest of the team trailing behind them. He craned his neck as they passed but didn’t see Sebastian anywhere in the crowd. His heart sped up at the thought that Sebastian might be somewhere waiting for _him_.

But there was no sight of Sebastian as the New Directions made their way to the green room and gathered around the piano for a last-minute warm up and huddle. Mr. Schue gave a quick pep talk but Kurt didn’t really hear any of it. He paid attention to the scales, though, singing one set with the boys, the next with the girls. One performance, just one, stood between him and finally figuring out what this thing was with Sebastian. And maybe Sebastian wouldn’t even be watching him, but killing his solo certainly wasn’t going to hurt.

And kill it he did. Rachel sounded awesome, Artie hit just the right level of soulful, and when Kurt came down the risers dead center holding that perfect f there were audible gasps from the audience, followed by a swell of cheering and applause.

So when they ran offstage to the green room to wait for the results, all of Kurt’s teammates were high on performance energy and excitement when, as a group they practically crashed into the Warblers heading in the opposite direction. Mercedes immediately threw herself into David’s arms, both of them insisting that the other’s team had given the better performance, and together they led the way toward the waiting area, trailed by two glee clubs’ worth of students who weren’t at all sure what to make of each other.

But Kurt didn’t really notice any of this. He barely registered Mercedes’ happiness as she wrapped herself up in David. Because Sebastian was here. From opposite sides of the happy couple the two teams sized each other up, no one quite sure what to do, and at the far ends of each team Kurt and Sebastian stared each other down.

He’d looked good on stage but Sebastian looked even better here, so close, the cocksure performance energy gone and in its place an uncertainty that made him look almost vulnerable. Kurt would have given anything to have him alone, instead of separated by two dozen somewhat uncomfortable people. But he smiled anyhow, and Sebastian’s mouth quirked up as well, and it really wasn’t fair how beautiful that crooked smile made him look.

Suddenly Sam thrust a hand out to the nearest Warbler (Trent, Kurt thought it might be), with a quiet “You guys were awesome,” which broke the ice enough that others began to follow suit, murmuring congratulations and mingling further into each others’ ranks. Kurt shook three or four hands before he was pulled into a hug by Jeff, followed by his boyfriend (Kurt really needed to remember his name) and then a few others until finally he’d congratulated everyone except Sebastian, who as far as Kurt could see hadn’t been approached by anyone at all.

The two teams, on their way to finally becoming friends, filtered into the green room together but Kurt held back and Sebastian waited too, until they were alone in the corridor.

“Can we - talk?” Kurt asked, cursing himself for sounding so unsure.

“Sure. In there?” Sebastian’s expression wasn’t giving anything away, but he nodded in the direction of one of the practice rooms. Kurt led the way, moving all the way to one side of the room. Sebastian took the opposite position, as if by unspoken agreement they were keeping as much space as possible between them.

Kurt’s face was burning but his hands felt ice cold. There were a million things he needed to say to Sebastian, but now, with Sebastian standing right there looking so composed, the complete opposite of the turmoil Kurt was feeling, he couldn’t seem to force any of them out of his mouth. The silence dragged on until it became ridiculous, then of course, they both spoke at once.

“I need to . . .”

“Look, I can’t . . .”

The both froze, and Sebastian’s “can’t” echoed in Kurt’s ears and stabbed at his heart. His mind ran wild with possibilities. _Can’t be with you? Can’t do this any more?_

“Go ahead.” Sebastian gestured at Kurt.

“No, I need you to go first. Please.”

Kurt’s throat closed as Sebastian stood still as marble, and he had to put every ounce of strength he had into forcing back the tears that wanted to fill his eyes as the silence dragged on. He’d been wrong. About the song, about the serenade, about everything.

And then his heart plummeted and fractured at the same time as with a sharp, loud, “Oh, fuck this shit!” Sebastian moved to stride abruptly out the door.

Except that’s not where he went at all.

Instead of leaving through the door, like Kurt had expected, Sebastian’s long legs carried him past it and towards Kurt with such determined ferocity that Kurt took an involuntary step backwards before he realized what was happening. Then Sebastian’s hand was gripping the back of his neck and his arm was wrapping strong around Kurt’s waist, pulling him up onto his toes, and his mouth was coming down hard and desperate and feeling like nothing so much as _claiming_.

For one dizzying, frantic second Kurt’s body wouldn’t move, while his brain screamed at it to grab, to kiss, to do anything that would show Sebastian that Kurt wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. Sebastian’s mouth was one hard press, not moving at all, and his arm pulled tighter and tighter, pressing Kurt up against his body, and just as the pressure from his lips started to decrease, just as it looked like he might be giving up, Kurt’s body finally unfroze, his hands reaching for the back of Sebastian’s head to pull him closer, his lips opening, inviting Sebastian’s tongue.

Words didn’t matter. Sebastian’s declaration was clear in the desperate pull of his arm around Kurt’s middle, the way he tasted every corner of Kurt’s mouth like it was a dying man’s last meal. And Kurt’s response was in his hands grasping at Sebastian’s hair, and the tiny sounds escaping his throat.

Eventually Sebastian pulled back just enough to look into Kurt’s eyes, his own sparkling green under the fluorescent lights. “Really?” he asked simply.

“Uh-huh,” Kurt nodded emphatically then pulled Sebastian’s mouth back to his own, his heart finally safe in the knowledge of all the things Sebastian didn’t need to say out loud.

* * *

_From Mercedes Jones: Should we bring you guys some popcorn? ;)_

_To Mercedes Jones: Try it and I burn every shoe you own._

_From Mercedes Jones: I know you’re bluffing. You’d never touch my mom's vintage Vans._

_To Mercedes Jones: They'll be the kindling._

* * *

Sebastian shut the practice room door then took advantage of Kurt's hands and attention being focused on his phone to explore his face, his neck, his ear, with lips that managed to be both gentle and impatient at the same time.

"Did you promise bodily harm?" he asked between kisses when Kurt finally shoved the phone back in his pocket.

"Worse. I threatened her wardrobe."

"Ooh. Badass." Sebastian smirked and captured Kurt's lips again, but the text interruption had brought Kurt back to reality just enough that he twisted away, gently but insistently.

"We need to talk," he said.

Sebastian groaned. "I know. I just missed you so much." He sounded incredulous, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself.

"You could have called." Kurt said, as gently as he could manage.

"I know."

"But you didn't."

Sebastian sighed and ran a restless hand through his hair, but he wrapped his arm back around Kurt's waist (a gesture Kurt was beginning to love) and pulled him down on the couch along the back wall of the room. Once they were seated he let go of Kurt entirely and pressed himself back into one side of the cushions, as if he needed to physically separate himself from Kurt before he could begin to explain. But Kurt wouldn’t let him withdraw completely. He grabbed Sebastian’s hand and pulled it into his own lap, curling his fingers around it.

“I am so fucking sorry, Kurt. This whole thing is my fault and I just - I couldn’t face you until I figured out what to do about it.”

“How is it your fault?” Kurt asked, incredulous.

Sebastian laughed bitterly. “George is my mess. Not yours. He was trying to hurt me and -”

“Okay, you need to tone down your megalomania,” Kurt said, and that made Sebastian laugh for real. “I’m the one who decided to call him up and tear him a new asshole. He made things hard for the Warblers but he got my glee club disqualified. You don’t get to crucify yourself for this when it’s just as much about me as it is about you.”

Sebastian shook his head. “It wasn’t just George, though. Matthew was part of it too.”

That was news. Mercedes hadn’t said anything about Matthew. “What? How?”

“Matthew’s wanted me to fuck him ever since I came back to Dalton.” Sebastian looked down at his lap and his free hand tugged through his hair again. “And - I did. Once. He wanted more and I was really clear with him that that wasn’t going to happen. Kind of physically clear.”

Kurt had to work to keep his face straight. Sebastian didn’t know he’d been outside the Warbler’s practice room the day he’d fought with Matthew, and he didn’t really feel like the time was right to bring that up.

“So Matthew and George discovered each other, somehow.” Sebastian continued.

Kurt snorted delicately. “Probably in the alley behind Scandals.”

“A distinct possibility. Anyhow, they figured out they had some mutual grudges, I guess. So Matthew took the video of us practicing, and George was the one who walked into McKinley’s computer lab that Thursday morning and e-mailed it.”

“Mercedes only told me about George.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian shrugged, “I didn’t have anything to threaten Matthew with so he never confessed. I’m sure George tried to drag him into it, but I guess after what happened before they didn’t want to believe him.”

“Wait, so he just gets off scott free?”

Sebastian smiled, a little ruefully, but still a smile. “Well, I have a feeling the rest of the Warblers are planning to make his life pretty miserable. In a zero-tolerance-for-bullying kind of way, of course.”

Kurt smiled too. He wanted justice for Matthew, but he was honest enough to admit to himself that he wanted it more because Matthew wanted Sebastian than for anything to do with the cheating. He figured given the circumstances he was allowed to be just a little petty like that. He scooted closer to Sebastian and let one of his legs settle between Sebastian’s, hinting at the idea of climbing into his lap.

“So, now that it’s all over, what do you want?” he asked quietly. “From me?”

Sebastian’s hands circled Kurt’s waist and pulled him until he was straddling Sebastian’s lap. Kurt could feel Sebastian’s body relax, as if just having him there, their bodies touching, made everything okay.

“I want - everything I said I wanted before, the first time I asked you out, and in New York that night. I want it all.” Sebastian’s hands roamed up and down Kurt’s back and he let his head fall back against the couch.  “Fuck, it sounds ridiculous coming out of my mouth but I want dinners, and dancing, and make outs in the car, preferably make outs ending in blow jobs, and your ass in those incredibly evil cock-teasing leather pants, and I really want you to want all that too, you know. Except, my ass, I guess. In my pants.”

Kurt laughed and leaned close, so that their mouths were almost touching. “I do like the idea of your ass in leather pants.”

“I actually don’t own any leather pants.” Sebastian craned his neck to reach Kurt’s lips but Kurt pulled back and feigned shock.

“Okay, that is a travesty that we’ll be changing the minute this thing is over. If I have to suffer for your pleasure then you have to suffer for mine.”

“Bring it, sweetheart,” Sebastian grinned and pulled Kurt’s head down to his, finally coaxing him close enough to tease their lips together while one hand stroked down Kurt’s spine to settle on the curve of his ass, the other keeping his head firmly in kissing distance.

And God, if this was his life now, then Kurt was all for it. It was a risk, he knew, taking this leap with Sebastian. There were a thousand ways it could go completely wrong and leave him brokenhearted and alone. But life was about risk. Nothing worth having was easy; Kurt had learned that almost before he could say “Prada.” And he suspected that Sebastian would be so very worth having.

So he settled more firmly in Sebastian’s lap, and traced his tongue against Sebastian’s lips, unbuttoning his blazer so his hands could roam up and down the toned expanse of Sebastian’s chest. Then, just as they were getting into a rhythm, just as Sebastian's hips were flexing under his and his exhales were starting to qualify as moans, just as their lips were remembering the most delicious ways to move together, Kurt remembered that there was still one thing he hadn't asked Sebastian.

"What did you threaten him with?" he gasped out, pulling back just far enough to speak.

"What?" Sebastian panted against his lips, craning forwards to try and capture Kurt’s mouth again.

Kurt leaned a little further away. "You said Matthew didn't confess because you didn't have anything to threaten him with. But what did you have on George?"

Sebastian looked like he thought Kurt was a little insane to be talking about this right now, but he answered just the same.

"Statutory rape."

Kurt felt his eyebrows go comically high. "Seriously?"

Sebastian shrugged. "The last couple of times we did it were after his birthday. So I was fifteen and he was eighteen."

"But - does it even work that way? I mean, if you were already together before he was eighteen?"

"I have no idea," Sebastian confessed with a slightly evil smile that sent tiny shivers of want down Kurt's spine. "I figured, given who my father is, he'd be just dumb enough to believe I knew what I was talking about. And he was."

Sebastian spoke so casually about it, still relaxed under Kurt’s body. But Kurt knew what it must have cost him to face George down like that, to finally give a name to what he’d done. He’d violated Sebastian, whatever the law would have said about it. He’d stolen Sebastian’s ability to trust and twisted his ideas about love. Kurt wanted to tell Sebastian how much he loved him for facing all that for him, but they’d taken some big steps today and he knew it wasn’t quite time for that kind of a declaration. Not yet.

So all he said was, "Was it hard, standing up to him like that?"

Sebastian’s smile was wide and genuine. "God no! It felt fucking fantastic. I felt free, you know?"

“You should let me tell the rest of the group what you did. They should know who they have to thank.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No way. There’d be too many questions and…I didn’t do it for them anyhow. I did it for you.”

Kurt nodded, and leant down to let his body express the feelings that he couldn’t quite bring himself to speak out loud. Yet.

* * *

_From Mercedes Jones: Are you two almost done?_

_To Mercedes Jones: This better be good._

_From Mercedes Jones: Results are in._

* * *

Sebastian's ears were still ringing from the applause of the crowd as they filed back off stage fifteen minutes later. The New Directions kids were just in front of the Warblers, with Kurt hanging towards the back of the group, and without thinking Sebastian darted forwards to fall in line with his boyfriend (and wasn't that a crazy thought, that he had an honest-to-God _boyfriend_!), his hand reaching out almost reflexively to tangle his fingers with Kurt's. He probably should have felt self-conscious about such a bold gesture, especially in front of so many of their friends, but he just couldn't bring himself to second-guess himself any more. He wanted to feel the warmth of Kurt's hand in his, he wanted the whole world to know that he, Sebastian Smythe, had been judged by Kurt Hummel and found worthy. He had put himself out there, and been accepted, and he was going to take full advantage of that fact any chance he could get from now on.

“Hey babe,” he whispered softly, leaning in so that their shoulders bumped together as they walked. Kurt's lips twitched up at the corners in a small, shy smile that Sebastian had a sneaking suspicion was completely subconscious. He liked it, he liked everything about this incredible boy, but that smile in particular was quickly becoming one of his favorites. It made Sebastian think that maybe Kurt was just as in awe about everything that was happening between them as he was, and that thought alone was enough to kill any remaining anxieties floating around in his chest. They were in this together now. _Together_.

“You're incredibly chipper for somebody who just lost Regionals.” Kurt replied, his voice relaxed as he nudged back against Sebastian's shoulder, his fingers curling tighter around Sebastian's palm.

“Ouch, burn. I guess I must have imagined the part where you lost too,” Sebastian teased, just about resisting the urge to pin Kurt up against the wall and kiss him senseless. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Kurt gave an exaggerated sigh, his chest heaving. “I know, to a freaking _cowboy_ routine too, I'm not sure I can live with the embarrassment.” He paused for a second, before tilting his head towards Sebastian, his eyes glittering deviously. “Still, we beat you, so I think I can count this one as a win in that respect.”

“Laugh it up, pretty boy,” Sebastian joked as they rounded the corner and started making their way down the corridor where the clubs' respective rooms were situated, “but our song got me you, and if that's not a win then I don't know what is.”

Kurt's eyes softened, and he shuffled closer, so that their sides were pressed up together. “You always had me,” he replied quietly, as if he almost couldn't believe what he was admitting to, before shaking his head and smiling wickedly at Sebastian once again. “But we still beat you, and don't you ever forget it.”

It was crazy, Sebastian thought to himself as they reached their destination and the now casually intermixed group of Warblers and New Directioners slowed to a halt, how nothing and everything seemed to have changed between him and Kurt. They were still both more than willing to tease and snark at each other; Sebastian didn't feel any new desire to censor his behavior, and he was reasonably sure Kurt would never _dream_ of reigning in his bitchiness around him, but now underneath their taunts there was an undercurrent of warmth, of affection, of acceptance. It was almost as if Kurt wanted him _because_ of his edges, of his flaws, rather than in spite of them, and that concept was just a little terrifying for Sebastian who had always used his scathing persona as a defense, not as an opening.

Except how could it be terrifying, when Kurt was next to him, _with_ him. Somehow, Sebastian had gotten the guy, and he hadn't had to do anything other than be himself. That had to be one for the books.

“You know, I'm glad neither of us won,” Sebastian commented with air of utmost casualty as the group prepared to split off into their respective rooms (and did he really just see Thad give Sugar his number? That should be interesting.)

“Oh really, and why is that?” Kurt replied curiously.

“Well...” Sebastian drew out the word, long and low as he let go of Kurt's hand so that he could slip his arm around his waist instead, drawing Kurt even closer to him as he whispered darkly in his ear. “No win means no victory parties where people will notice if we're not in attendance.”

He heard Kurt's voice hitch in his throat, “I...uh...right, okay. Give me five minutes to get my stuff...actually you know what screw it, Rachel can pick it up for me.” Kurt whirled away towards the exit, pausing and turning back with an exaggerated huff when he noticed that Sebastian wasn't following him. “Well, are you coming or not?” He asked haughtily, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. Sebastian ignored the catcalls from both teams, throwing a quick salute in David's direction as he hurried to catch up with Kurt, his arm reaching out once again to clasp Kurt's hand - he was quickly coming to the opinion that they should always be touching, always.

They were out the door and halfway towards the parking lot when Kurt stalled, drawing up with an agitated huff. “Crap, forgot to ask Rachel. Damn you Sebastian, this is all your fault.”

“Me? What did I do?” Sebastian asked incredulously, grinning as Kurt whipped out his phone and started typing manically.

“You were there, with your sexy eyes and your sexy voice and your _unfairly_ sexy ass. I can't think straight when I'm around you.”

Sebastian laughed, loving how easily the words flowed from Kurt's lips. This was his life now, this was what he had won. If he wanted to tell Kurt how beautiful he was, or how he made Sebastian smile simply by existing, then he could. He could be tired in classes, and simply explain to his friends “Sorry, Kurt and I were up late talking,” he could introduce Kurt to his sister, tell his parents that he had found somebody who made him happy, who was good for him. Maybe someday soon he could tell Kurt he loved him, and hear it reciprocated. He could have this; he could have everything he had forgotten he wanted.

“I don't have your number.”

Kurt looked up in confusion from his phone, “What? Of course you do.”

Sebastian shook his head adamantly, “We kind of skipped that part. You were too busy calling me a self-centered asshole.”

“And you were too busy insulting my clothes,” Kurt snarked back, hitting 'send' and navigating to his contacts before holding his phone out to Sebastian. “But I agree, this is definitely something we should fix.” Sebastian reached out to take the phone from Kurt's outstretched palm, but at the last second Kurt whipped it away, eyeing Sebastian suspiciously. “No sexting me during school hours, you've seen the pants I wear.”

“I make no promises,” Sebastian replied solemnly, trying to grab the phone from Kurt's grasp, but Kurt simply scowled and raised the phone higher in the air out of Sebastian's reach. Giving a small huff Sebastian rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms, “Fine, I'll only sext you between the hours of five and midnight.”

“And weekends?”

“And weekends.”

Kurt paused for a second longer, pretending to consider Sebastian's proposal. “Okay, deal,” he finally replied, handing over the phone. Sebastian quickly typed in his digits and handed the handset back to Kurt. Kurt quickly fired off a text and Sebastian felt his own phone buzz in his pocket. “There, now you have mine as well. Let the wildly inappropriate sexting commence.”

Together they made their way over to Kurt's navigator, and as Kurt moved around to the driver's side door Sebastian surreptitiously checked his phone, grinning when he saw the message on his screen. He sent a quick response before hopping up into the passenger seat, smiling like an idiot as he basked in the knowledge that, for once, everything had turned out exactly how it was supposed to.

* * *

_From <unknown number>: Hey asshole._

_To My Sex Kitten: Hey bitch._


End file.
